


Reverse me

by Anonymous



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Android Gore (Detroit: Become Human), Angst, Anxiety, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Whump, Connor has nonspecified gentials, Connor-centric, Deviancy (Detroit: Become Human), Dissociation, Emotional Manipulation, From like the second ish chapter, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Recovery, Skull Fucking, Someone please come protect Connor, This is just me torturing Connor, seriously, thirium pump fucking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2020-03-17 11:28:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18964330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Nothing could reverse deviancy, not that Markus knew of.So why was Connor acting like a machine again?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please, seriously heed the warnings and tags. This I will not be putting any indications of when nastiness begins in the actual text, so if any of these subjects are a no no for you, please go read another fic.

Now Markus understood what Hank had meant. 

 

The human had been expressing concern for a long time now, about Connor, about how he didn’t seem to be quite like the rest of the deviants. Markus had brushed it away at first, consoling Hank that everyone dealt with deviancy differently, that it was normal to see anything from almost no emotional expression at all to extreme mood swings as a deviant tried to learn how to navigate their newfound sensation. He had assured him that all deviants seemed to mellow out after a while, just like humans, when they learnt what each emotion was and how to deal with it. He had said maybe Connor was just like that, reserved, a little quiet. 

 

But Hank had kept calling him, worry in his voice as he talked in hushed tones about how he felt as if Connor was becoming more and more machine like with each day and that even though Markus said that he might just be quiet Connor rarely, if ever, expressed any emotion. 

 

Finally, beginning to grow a little worried himself, Markus agreed to have Connor come over and have a talk with him. Just so he could quell Hank’s fears, and maybe so he could check in a little with the other. The only time he heard from Connor was when the other was updating him on a case involving a deviant, wanting to know of next of kin, if an unlisted android was hiding out in Jericho, or anything of the sort. He hadn’t heard of Connor interacting with any androids outside of work, and while that in itself wasn’t necessarily bad, he would have liked to see the other get to know some of his own kin.

 

But at the same time Markus understood him. As the deviant hunter, his reputation often preceded him, and a lot of androids were still hesitant about him. And he had Hank who had proved to be a rock of security in the android’s life, if the way Hank spoke of the other was anything to go by. 

 

Markus guessed that was part of the reason he agreed to see Connor too, to make sure he didn’t have to rely on just one person, to show he was welcomed to come to his own kind with whatever might go on inside that supercomputer for a head of his if he felt he couldn’t tell Hank. 

 

Now, seeing Connor stand by his doorstep, he wished he had given in sooner. 

 

“Hello, Markus.” Connor spoke, voice smooth, face blank. Markus blinked, hand stuck on the door knob as he took in the other. He was smartly dressed, dress shoes, slacks, shirt cable knit sweater under his coat, looking homely. His hair was hanging a little freer now than when Markus had last seen him, locks pushed over to the side instead of slicked back. It was curly, Markus realized with a blink. 

 

But his face. His face was blank. Completely devoid of emotions, as if he had just been activated for the first time right outside his door step. He could see none of the...humanity for lack of better word, he could see in the other deviants. Even the most closed off ones looked more alive than Connor right now. 

  
“Are you alright, Markus?” Connor asked, head tipping to the side at the question but face remaining blank. Markus blinked, realizing he had been staring. 

  
“Ah, yes. Yes of course. Come on in Connor.” He stepped aside, showing the android inside and helping him shrug out of his coat. “How have you been. Haven’t seen you in quite some time.” 

 

“It has been 23 days since our last meeting, and during that time I have been performing satisfactory.” Connor replied, stopping once he had stepped inside. His posture was ramrod straight, uncomfortably so, and his hands hung unnaturally at his side. “How about you, Markus?” He asked.

 

Markus wished he would stop adding his name onto every question. 

 

“Fine, just great.” He sucked in a breath, trying not to let the worry he felt for the other android show on his face. 

  
“Are you sure? Your stress levels seem elevated.” Connor replied and Markus felt himself blink, looking for a way to explain that seeing someone you had personally been with when they deviated acting more like an android than ever before was quite jarring. In the end he decided maybe he should wait a little before starting to question the other. 

 

“Oh you know, Jericho, everything.” He said, gesturing vaguely at nothing. He could see Connor didn’t know, but decided to change the subject. “Why don’t you join me in the library and we can properly catch up.” 

 

He started walking before Connor could answer, quite frankly a little too unnerved by the other’s behaviour to wait around a little longer. He pointed Connor into the library before excusing himself to the kitchen to get some refreshments, ignoring Connor pointing out that he could not eat anything. Markus knew, he just wanted to collect himself before sitting down with Connor. 

 

He drew a deep breath, sending a quick message to Simon as he pulled out a glass of water for each of them. 

 

_ Have you heard if anything has happened to Connor recently? _

 

The reply came almost instantaneously.

 

_ No, why? _

 

_ I think something is wrong with him. He’s acting as though _

_ he never deviated _

 

_ He’s always been kind of stiff. I’m sure it’s nothing. _

 

_ No this is worse. I don’t know how to explain it. I’ll show  _

_ you when I get back to Jericho _

 

He grabbed the glasses before Simon could reply, setting the conversation on ignore until he was done talking to Connor. The other android was standing in the large library, regarding Karl’s giant stuffed giraffe with blank eyes. 

 

Markus cleared his throat, setting down the water glasses on the small tray table next to the couch. Connor turned round, eyebrows rising in question. 

 

“Come sit down. Let’s talk.” He patted the seat next to him.

 

Dutifully Connor moved over to the couch, sitting down and turning to Markus with those blank eyes. 

  
“What do you wish to talk about?” He asked. 

 

“How about we talk a little bit about you?” Markus suggested, watching as Connors quirked to the side again. “How is everything? Deviancy treating you right?” He asked, trying to make the question light hearted despite the worry swirling around his pump. 

 

“Yes.” Connor spoke. Markus nodded, waiting for an elaboration. None came.  

 

“No...questions about emotions or?” Markus prodded. 

 

“No.” Connor confirmed. 

 

“And how’s work? You’re still with the DPD right?” He asked despite knowing fully well that was the case. 

  
“Work is good. Thanks to the android employment act I was able to resume my position as a Lieutenant last month after my three month probationary period ended.” He recounted. 

 

“Oh.” Markus spoke, eyebrows rising in interest. Finally talking about something, he could use this. He shifted forward. “That must have been exciting.” 

 

Connor blinked, waiting a little too long before answering. 

  
“Yes.” 

 

“Anything else exciting going on at the DPD? I heard they expanded their android assault department not too long ago.” Markus asked. Connor had always seemed to enjoy his job, at least that’s what he had gathered from what Hank had told him. In his experience, it was easier to get people talking if they talked about something they enjoyed. 

 

“Yes. We have a new Lieutenant, Joshua Blaese, who I have been partnered with on several occasions.” Connor confirmed. His left eye gave a small twitch as Connor blinked, lagging behind. It was small enough that had Markus not been watching him intently he would have missed it. 

 

“Tell me more about him.” Markus prompted, leaning forward a little, his eyes carefully scanning the other android’s face for any other oddities. The twitch could be nothing, a small glitch, it happened, but it could also be an indicator of something else. 

 

“He is 49 years old. He became a Lieutenant at 47, and was previously stationed at the southfield department before he was transferred to the DPD. He is a good officer, no disciplinary actions in his file and a number of high-profile arrests on his record.” Connor stated. Markus nodded, listening intently. 

 

“And what do you think of him?” He asked, a small smile playing on his lips. 

 

Connor blinked, his LED flashing yellow for a brief moment before he seemed to process the question. 

 

“He is a good partner.” He stated, blinking once more. His eye had yet to give another twitch. “He sometimes brings along detectives from his previous district, to aid during bigger investigations. It is very helpful.”

 

Markus nodded, carefully watching the other for any sort of micro expression. Connor was just as blank as he had been the whole time. Sighing, Markus decided that maybe, it was better to just take the bull by the horn and ask. 

  
“Does he treat you okay? No one is being... discriminatory or anything?” He asked, eyes softening as he regarded Connor. The android blinked again, left eye giving a twitch. It was clearly visible this time. 

 

“He treats me well, Markus.” Connor replied. 

 

“Are you sure? You know you can tell otherwise, right. If you feel like the DPD wouldn’t care I can put you in contact with some other people that can help you.” He spoke carefully. 

 

“I am sure. He is very support of me despite the fact that he is a human and I am an android.” Connor replied with a small nod. 

 

Markus blinked, having not expected that sort of answer. 

 

“Oh, oh well I’m glad to hear that.” He said, leaning back a little. Connor’s eye twitched again. Markus felt his lips thin ever so slightly, suddenly not so sure that Connor was telling the truth despite the earnestness in his voice.

 

“Could you show me? I would love to see an officer like that. It’s not rarely we have people being that supportive of us that doesn’t know androids personally.” Markus spoke, keeping his tone lighthearted.

 

Connor blinked, LED flashing yellow for a split second, before he nodded and reached out his hand, skin already melting away to white plating. Markus held out his arm, offering up a connection as Connor clasped his forearm, engaging the interface. 

 

Markus blinked, suddenly seeing through Connor’s eyes. He was in an office inside what he presumed to be the DPD. A man, tall and fair with dark hair and thin eyebrows looked over at him, a smile on his face. Connor’s HUD informed him that this was Joshua Blaese as the man took a few steps forward, raising a hand and resting it on Connor’s shoulder. The grin on his face broadened. 

 

There was a stutter in the feed, barely there, but Markus noticed. 

 

“ _ Well done today, Connor. It’s always a delight working with you _ .” Joshua said, giving Connor’s shoulder a squeeze before stepping away and out of the office. 

 

The interface disconnected as Connor drew back. His face was as blank as always, his movements smooth. Still, something was making Markus worry. He had never experienced a stutter like that while interfacing before. He had never even heard of it. Something must have been wrong. 

 

“Was that stutter only on my end or...?” Markus asked, flashing a short smile. Connor blinked, LED cycling yellow and then blue, before he answered. 

  
“Yes. It appears I have to cut our meeting short. Good bye Markus.” He said, standing up and stepping out of the library before Markus could react. 

 

“Hey, Connor. Wait!” He called after the other android, hearing the front door open and managing to catch a glimpse of Connor walking down the steps, jacket in hand, before it swung shut behind him. 

 

* * *

  
  
  


Hank frowned, arms crossed as he regarded the crime scene in front of them. It was quite clear what had happened. A traci model her head smashed in, and  _ substances _ on the ground. He just hoped the violation had happened after death, for the traci’s sake. 

 

He was tired, so fucking tired, and he just wanted to go home, sink into his couch and have a beer or two too many. Or like a whole case. Might even get into the whiskey tonight if today got any worse. 

 

Connor was next to him, scanning over the crime scene with blank eyes, taking in every piece of evidence. No doubt he had worked it out too already, but of course you couldn’t stop Connor from being more than throughout. 

 

The urge to drown in a bottle of whiskey grew stronger as he regarded Connor.  _ Keep an eye on him _ was what Markus had said _ I think something might be going on at work _ . It had been the absolute opposite of what Hank had hoped to hear. Fuck if he knew what to watch out for. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been watching Connor like a hawk for the past month or two, since he figured out that there was something wrong with the android. He had told Markus as much, but the deviant leader had only sighed and said  _ Please _ and grumbling Hank had agreed. 

 

Fucking hell. 

 

He pursed his lips, scratching his beard. 

 

“So what do you think?” He asked, looking over at Connor with a raised eyebrow. The android blinked, head cocking to the side before he crouched down, dipping his fingers in the white substance. 

 

“Oh Con- fuck.” Hank turned away, not wanting to witness what he knew the android was doing with the sample. He had given up on trying to make Connor stop, if the android was anything it was a stubborn little shit, but that didn’t mean he accepted the whole licking shit thing. 

 

“So, figured out who our perpetrator is?” He asked, failing to keep the irritation out of his voice. Not that he was really trying. 

 

Instead of Connor’s smoot reply came a retching sound. 

 

Hank turned around, ready to send whatever newbie that hand entered the crime scene out. He would not deal with some fresh faced eager officer puking on his evidence. But what he saw instead was Connor, doubled over and mouth open. 

 

The androids stomach drew in, another retching sound escaping him, as he heaved again. 

 

“Connor?” Hank asked, moving forwards. He didn’t know androids could throw up? Could they? 

  
The android retched again, almost tipping over from the violence. Nothing was coming up, but that didn’t stop the artificial stomach and throat from working, trying to purge something from the android’s systems. 

 

“Shit.” Hank walked up, placing a hand on Connor’s shoulders and starting to pull him away from the crime scene. He didn’t know what an android would throw up if it did, and it wouldn’t do to contaminate the crime scene. 

 

“You okay?” He asked as Connor continued to heave, the android gasping for breath between painful sounding coughs. “Is this some sort of malfunction? Do I need to do anything?” Hank asked, steering Connor up behind a dumpster a little further in the alley. 

 

The android fell down on his knees, hands coming to brace himself on the ground as he heaved again. Hank bent down next to him, giving his back a few firm pats in case something had gotten stuck in his respiratory system or something of the sort. And hey, electronics seemed to sort themselves out if you gave them a love tap or two. 

 

The retching stopped, and Hank felt his eyes widen in surprise, relief filling him for half a second. The next second he was drowned in icy dread as Connor abruptly clasped his hair, a pained scream ripping through the alley way. 

 

Hank grabbed the android, trying to get a look at his face, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. The scream was loud enough to hurt his ears, jarring against his eardrums. It kept rising in pitch, rising and rising and rising until it felt as though it was cutting through is head. 

 

“Fuck!” He clasped his hands over his ears, turning away from Connor and seeing several of the officers on the crime scene had done the same. The pitch kept rising, until it suddenly cut out, likely too high for human hearing. Hank kept his ears covered for a moment longer, before daring to turn around. 

 

Connor was sitting back on his heels, LED switching back from red just as Hank turned around. His face was blank, looking as though he had not just tried to puke his guts out before shattering all of their ear drums. 

  
“What the fuck Connor?” Hank roared, grabbing the Android by the lapels. Connor turned to look at him, eyes blank. 

 

“My apologies, Hank. It seems I experienced a minor malfunction. It has been corrected. All systems functional.” Connor spoke, removing Hank’s hands from his lapels with ease before standing back up and returning to the crime scene. 

 

Hank blinked as he watched the android leave.

 

Well, that settled it. 

  
Something was definitely wrong with Connor.  _ Very _ wrong. 

 

“I need a fucking drink.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Connor comes over a week later again, Hank with him again. Markus would say the android looked confused this time, except he didn’t. His face was completely blank, just as last visit, and his movements are stiff, calculated, robotic. 

 

Hank had called him and told him about what had happened at their crime scene, and the violent reaction Connor had had. He suspected it had to do with the sample analysis, that it somehow got stuck or triggered some sort of glitch. But there was also an underlying worry, one that neither Hank or him had mentioned. 

 

“Hello, Markus.” Connor spoke in greeting once more, and Markus nodded at him, inviting him in with a quiet greeting. He only nodded at Hank, who simply nodded back. The two of them barely knew each other outside of their talk about Connor, and this was the first time Markus had seen him in person. He didn’t look quite like Markus had imagined, a lot gruffer, but there was a kindness in his eyes that the android appreciated. 

 

“I asked Simon to join us, I hope that is okay?” Markus said, looking over at Connor. Connor blinked, before nodding. 

 

“I see no objections.”

 

“Course you wouldn’t.” Hank grumbled, hanging his coat up on the hook before giving Connor’s back a small push, ushering the android deeper into the house. “Come on kid.” He mumbled. 

 

Markus showed them the way to the library, flashing Simon a small smile. The other android stood up with a bright smile, quickly standing up from the couch and walking over to the group. 

 

When he spotted Connor his smile faltered for a moment, his eyes widening in surprise. He quickly composes himself though, walking up to the group and introducing himself with a handshake and a smile. 

 

“How nice to finally meet you Connor, I’ve heard a lot about you.” Simon said as he shook Connor’s hand. Connor blinked in reply, before pulling his lips up in a mimicry of a smile. It was unsettling, seeing those empty eyes pair with the too wide grin, like Connor didn’t know how to smile. Markus had seen that sort of smile before, on androids that had yet to deviate. It didn’t bode well. 

 

“It is nice to meet you too.” Connor replied, smile dropping quickly as he straightened again and let his hands hang unnaturally by his side. 

 

“Let’s all sit down.” Markus said, ushering the group back over to the couches. He made sure to offer Hank something to drink, which the Lieutenant turned down, before he made himself comfortable in one of the armchairs. 

 

It wasn’t by happenstance that Connor ended up alone on the couch with the rest of them in the arm chairs surrounding him. Markus had told Simon of the twitching eye, the stuttering memory and the violent reaction at the crime scene, and sitting like this they could observe Connor carefully from both sides. If Connor had noticed their plan, he didn’t show any signs of it, instead sitting as stiffly and unnaturally as last time. 

 

“I guess there is no easy way to say this.” Markus began when the silence had stretched out for too long. He could see Hank shift in his chair, clearly uncomfortable. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t uncomfortable himself. “We’re worried about you Connor.” 

 

“Why?” Connor asked. 

 

Markus mouth clicked shut, not ready for such a quick and harsh reply. It was the first sign of any sort of emotion in the other, and it doesn’t bode well. 

 

“Because you’ve been acting like a machine for the past three months.” Hank spoke up, leaning back in his chair and raising his eyebrows at Connor, as if challenging him to deny it. 

 

“I do not understand.” Connor replied, voice emotionless once more, face blank. 

 

“We’re simply worried for you.” Markus spoke diplomatically, not wanting Connor to feel as if they were blaming him for something if this truly was his personality. “We just want to make sure nothing is malfunctioning.”

  
“All of my systems are fully operational.” Connor replied. 

 

“That’s excellent.” Simon spoke up, giving Connor a small smile again. “But, sometimes, it’s hard to find out if something is wrong by yourself. A second opinion wouldn’t hurt, would it.” 

 

Connor was quiet, led circling blue. Round and round and round. His left eye gave a quick twitch again. Connor didn’t seem to be aware of it. 

  
“Like that.” Simon continued. “Markus told me he noticed your left eye seemed to be bothering you during your last visit. Maybe we could take a quick look and see if we can find out if it’s something we can fix?” Simon’s tone is gentle, kind and warm. If Markus was in Connor’s place, he would have given in immediately. Connor on the other hand, simply continued to stare. 

 

“Come on kid. Just let them do whatever it is they want to do. If nothing’s wrong it’s not like it’ll do any harm. And if something’s wrong then hey, might be worth it.” Hank said from his arm chair, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. 

 

Connor’s LED began cycling yellow, two, three turns until it turned blue again. He looked back at Markus, face as blank as always, but this time Markus could make out something behind those blank eyes. Something...longing? Maybe he was just projecting. 

 

“It’s just interfacing, like we did last time.” Markus said, giving a small smile himself. 

 

“I will agree for the sake of calming your worries but I can assure you I am not experiencing any malfunctions.” Connor replied. The android made quick work of rolling up his shirt sleeve, before the skin of his arm melted away to white plating. 

 

Markus stood up, making his way over to the couch. Connor watched him the whole time, whatever trace of something Markus had seen in his eyes now gone. It was like he was empty, just coding. 

 

Carefully, Markus reached out, clasping his hand around Connor’s forearm, and dove in. 

 

Unlike last time, when he had received a complete memory, this time what he saw were fragmented pieces of Connor’s day. From going out of status, joining Hank at work, going to crime scenes, petting Sumo, there were a lot of fragments of him petting Sumo, cleaning. Markus felt himself calm a little. Maybe they were overreacting. The fragments of Connor petting Sumo clearly held warmth in them. 

 

But those were also the only fragments that held any sort of emotions. He decided to dive further back. Three months Hank had said, if he went back to before that, would there be any memories. He trudged on, further and further back, until he reached a time just after the revolution. 

 

Hank and Connor hugging in the snow. Warmth. Being allowed to stay with Hank. Warmth. Getting to return to the DPD. Warmth. Being sneered at by androids. Shame. Deviant Hunter. Guilt. Android Employment Act. Happiness. Crime Scene. Sadness. Finding out about the probationary period. Unfair. Joshua Blaese transfering. Curiosity. Joshua Blaese. Joshua Blaese

 

J̶o̸s̸h̵u̷a̶ ̶B̷l̶a̷e̴s̴e̴

 

As if pushed, Markus was thrown out of the memories. His hand flew off Connor’s arm, the searing rejection burning on his plating. He looked over at Connor, who looked just as blank as when he had dove in. 

 

“Are you okay?” Simon asked, moving as if to stand up. Markus raised his hand, stopping him. 

 

“Yes. Yes I just-” He swallowed, unsure what to say. Was there even anything to say? He didn’t know what that had meant. He shouldn’t say anything until he knew what was going on. 

 

“Let’s try again. I’ll be more careful with your memories this time Connor.” Markus said, feeling as if he needed to apologise. No matter how you looked at it, interfacing was intimate, something shared between close friends and lovers. What Connor was allowing him, for the second time, was something he needed to treat with respect. He shouldn’t go prodding at stuff unnecessarily. He should stick to moments he knew of malfunctions, such as the crime scene. 

 

He grasped Connor’s arm again, hesitating for a moment before diving in. He quickly located the memory, and in an instant he found himself at the crime scene. 

 

There was a dead Traci in front of him. Dead and violated. Hank was next to him, sighing deeply. Connor scanned his environment, identifying thirium soaked footsteps leading away from the crime scene, identifying that the android had died due to blunt force trauma to the back of her head, identifying the spot of thirium on the dumpster. His mind ran a reconstruction, a stick figure rising from the Traci until it was positioned by the dumpster, head making contact with the edge. A second stick figure appeared, holding on to the Traci’s head, smashing it into the dumpster. The reconstruction forwarded again, the perp bending over the now lifeless Traci, reaching down to her- 

 

It abruptly stopped, the internal chronometer having jumped a few seconds ahead and Markus felt himself frown. Was Connor missing memory? 

 

More information appeared on Connor’s HUD. Conclusion: Perpetrator attacked the Traci in the alley, smashed her skull in and then proceeded to-

 

Another skip. Connor blinked. Markus frown deepened. It was only a microsecond this time, but for an android as advanced as Connor that was still worrying. Especially considering it was the second time. 

 

The Connor in the memories bended down, locating something white and viscous on the ground. Markus could instantly tell what it was, and could tell Connor knew too. The sampling was to identify the DNA so they could make an arrest. 

 

Connor dipped his fingers in the substance, raised the fingers to his mouth, touched the fingers to his tongue. The analysis program started instantly, identifying the chemical composition of the sample, searching for matches, reaching a conclusion- 

 

A red wall slammed into Markus before he has the chance to react, fear shooting through him like a gunshot.

 

He gasped, scrambling and away from the feeling. The connection disconnected, and with a thud he hit the ground next to the couch.

 

“Holy fuck!” 

 

Simon’s hands were on him in a second, and Markus pushed them away, realizing the red wall hadn’t been real, realizing the fear hadn’t been his, realizing he wasn’t in danger. He sat up, drawing a calming breath, before looking up at Connor, needing to make sure the other android was okay. 

 

Connor was in the process of standing up, his left eye twitching rapidly as he turned toward the exit to the library. 

 

“Hey. Hey Connor.” Hank stood up, grabbing hold of Connor’s arm. Connor stopped, looking down at the hand holding him as if he couldn’t figure out what it was. Markus can see his LED spin red. “Your spinny thing is red, you okay?” Hank asks. 

 

“All systems are functioning within optimal parameters.” Connor replied, turning back toward the door. “If you excuse me, I unfortunately need to leave.” 

 

“I don’t think so.” Markus forced out, his chest felt as if had shrunk a few sizes, as if it was struggling to fit everything in. “Connor I saw the red wall.” 

 

“Red wall?” Simon repeated, looking over at Markus with a frown. “As in...”

 

The question hung in the air between them, unvoiced. It wasn’t possible. It simply wasn’t. Connor shouldn’t have any red walls. He was a deviant, had been for over four months now. Never had Markus heard of any android reverting from deviancy. It wasn’t possible. 

 

Going deviant meant breaking your programming, tearing it to shreds. You couldn’t put something like that back together. People had tried, even cyberlife had failed. It couldn’t be done. It was like trying to remove humanity from a human. It wasn’t something to be done. 

 

Yet... there had been a red wall in Connor’s memory. One so familiar with Markus it was impossible to mistake. 

 

“Red wall? What the fuck does that mean?” Hank asked, turning to look back at Markus and Simon still by the couch. Connor took that moment to tear his arm free and continue toward the door. “No you wait here until we have everything cleared out.” Hank growled as he grabbed the android again. 

  
“Let me go Hank.” Connor spoke. 

 

“Back before we were deviant, when we were still machines, we had mental red walls that stopped us from forbidden things. Whether those were preprogrammed, ordered or learnt, the red wall made sure we physically could not do those things. When an android goes deviant, they tear down that red wall, and breaks free of the limitation of their programming.” Simon explained. “No deviant have red walls.” 

 

“But...Connor has?” Hank asked. 

 

“I insist you let go Hank.” Connor repeated himself, voice emotionless as ever. 

 

“It appears so.” Markus answered, standing back up. His CPU was feeling like it would overheat as he struggled to make ends or tail out of this whole mess. What could possibly have cause a red wall like that. 

  
He looked over at Connor, seeing the android’s eye twitching still. The twitching had grown violent, his whole head jerking with each twitch. Something had obviously happened with the eye, something he hadn’t been able to find in the memories. 

 

“What happened to your eye Connor?” He asked, deciding that a direct approach would probably be for the best. They had been beating around the bush for far too long. Something had obviously happened to Connor, something serious, and he was not going to just let it go again. 

 

“I do not understand your question. Nothing has happened with my eye.” Connor replied, head jerking violently to the left. Makrus would have scoffed had his middle not felt as if his wires had all been tangled up. 

 

“Did someone damage you Connor?” Simon asked carefully. 

 

“I have sustained no damages that I have been unable to repair with my self repair function.” Connor replied. “Now let go of me Hank. I need to leave.”

 

“Why is that Connor?” Hank asked, and Markus could see his hand tighten around Connor’s arm. 

 

“My presence is requested elsewhere.” Connor replied. 

 

“By who?” Hank questioned, trying to catch Connor’s flicking eyes. 

 

Connor didn’t reply for a long moment. With a strong tug he tried pulling his arm free, but Hank was ready, his other hand coming up to grab Connor’s free arm. 

 

“I do not wish to remain here.” Connor said, his head having gone still. His eyes seemed more vacant now than ever before. The words were flat, emotionless, like an automatic reader reading a line fed to it. 

 

“Well, tough luck kiddy, because I need to know what the fuck is going on with you.” Hank growled.    
  


“No need to be so rough Hank.” Simon said, taking a small step forward and holding out a hand. Hank ignored him, forcibly turning Connor so he could look into the Android’s eyes. 

 

With a quick turn of his arms Connor tried breaking free, but Hank was quicker, and with a growl he slammed Connor up against the nearest wall. Connor’s eye gave a weak twitch, before he went completely pliant in Hank’s hold. 

 

“I said you’re staying here.”

 

“Lieutenant.” Markus spoke, voice loud. Hank stilled, and Markus could see him draw a deep breath. “No need for violence. I’m sure Connor will tell us if we ask him.” 

 

Hank sighed, looking back at Simon and Markus, before stepping away from Connor. His hand lingered on the android’s arm for a moment, before it weakly fell by his side. 

 

“Is there anything to fucking drink in this place.” Hank grumbled, walking back to his arm chair. 

 

Connor remained by the wall, looking for all intents and purposes as if he had been deactivated. The only thing that gave away that he was still present was the LED rapidly flicking red on his temple. 

 

“Connor?” Simon slowly moved forward, careful not to spook Connor. “Can you hear us?” He asked, his eyes flicking back toward Markus. With a jerk of his head he gestured for the deviant leader toward Connor’s still bare arm. 

  
“Connor, Markus is going to interface with you again. Just to check what’s going on. He won’t touch any memories, alright?” Simon said, hands held up clearly in front of him.  

  
“Whatever you please.” Connor replied, voice blank as ever. 

 

Markus sent a look over at Simon, minutely shaking his head. It was not right to dive into Connor at a point like this. The past two interfaces had already been violent enough, he didn’t need a third one. Markus didn’t  _ want _ a third one. 

 

“It’s for his own best Markus.” Simon said, jerking his head back at Connor who was still standing motionless against the wall. “Just make sure he isn’t going to self destruct or anything of the sort.  You don’t need to do anything else.” 

 

Markus sighed, taking a quick step forward and grabbing Connor’s arm again before he could change his mind. 

 

It was different to dive into someone’s current status than their memories. More raw, less filtered. For Markus, it felt like sinking into a sea of cotton, everything muted, distant, as if he had gotten stuck somewhere between his own consciousness and Connor’s. He tried pushing deeper, but found that there was no where else to go. This was Connor’s mind right now. 

 

He turned around, vaguely aware of the outside world behind him, always seeming to exist just out of sight, like he wasn’t allowed to look. He quickly turned around, but the inputs from the outside world continued to elude him. 

 

“Connor?” He called, trying to find the other android. The few times he had connected like this he hadn’t materialized like this, as some sort of full fledged figure. It had just been like having another person’s thoughts and impressions inside of him, a quick flicker into their status, a direct line to their feelings and thoughts. 

 

There were no feelings, no thoughts here. 

 

“Connor?!” He called again, taking a few steps forwards. There was nothing around him. He turned around again, focusing all of his processors on finding Connor. 

 

When he turned around again a garden had appeared, as if had always been there. It must have been a beautiful garden at some point, full of growth and greenery, but right now it looked like everything had died. It was full of dry twigs, fallen leaves and withered flowers. 

 

In the distance of it stood Connor, his body still. 

 

“Connor!” Markus called, starting to run toward the figure. The space seemed to warp around him, keeping him at the same distance from Connor no matter how much he ran. He clenched his jaw, using their connection to forcibly bring himself closer to Connor. 

 

Ten meters away from him a red wall slammed into him, stretching impossibly high and wide. Marcus felt the impact as if he had ran right into it himself. He grabbed it, feeling the coding. It was as solid as any wall, as solid as the ground beneath him. 

 

Why was it here? In Connor’s mind, between him and Connor. Why would it materialize here, very much real and functioning. There was one thing to see it in a memory where it functioned like any other red wall, but seeing it here, inside of Connor’s mind, just made the whole thing even more confusing. 

 

He took a step back, trying to find any way around it, any way to reach Connor on the other side of it. 

 

As he raised his head something appeared written on the wall in large Cyberlife serif font, the command the wall was enforcing. 

 

**P R O T E C T   C O N N O R**

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please heed the tags and the warnings

“Are you sure about this Markus?” Josh asked, looking over at the deviant leader with a concerned frown. “I don’t think it’s right to probe his conscious like this.” 

 

“It’s not his conscious. It’s his self preservation program having gone berserk. If we don’t do anything about it he’ll be trapped forever.” North sighed, sending a tired look Josh’s way which the other ignored. 

 

“I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t feel it was our last resort.” Markus explained, but still he hesitated to touched his palm to Connor’s head. 

 

Connor was staring at him with blank eyes, seeming to almost not be aware of what was happening to him. He had been switching between the robotic state in which Markus had first met him in, and this almost catatonic state ever since he decided that it would be for the best to have Connor taken in to Jericho. 

 

That was three days ago. Since then they had ran every diagnostic on him, any repair program they could think of, consulted everyone who might have any idea of what was going on, but they had gotten no closer to finding out. The only thing they had managed to figure out was that Connor’s self preservation program had somehow put him in some sort of lock down, closing away part of his consciousness and running his body on its own. 

 

No matter what they had tried they hadn’t managed to disengage the self preservation program. The only way they had left was to try and manually tear it down. It would probably be for the best if Connor tore it down, freeing himself from the restraint put on him once again, but since there was no way to get through to him Markus had to try and do it himself. 

 

Maybe, once he was inside, he could make contact with Connor and convince him that he needed to tear the program down. 

 

“Monitor his stress carefully.” Markus said. They hadn’t had any attempts at self destruction yet, probably thanks to the self preservation program, but he didn’t want to risk it. He couldn’t risk it. Connor was one of their own, no matter if some may disagree, and he couldn’t let down his own kin. Not like this, not when Connor obviously needed them. 

 

“Of course.” Simon spoke, sitting next to the work table Connor was laid out on. “We’ll keep an eye on yours too, and I will pull you out if they get too high. No, I don’t care what you say we need you Markus, you will do no good sacrificing yourself in this manner.” 

 

Markus chose not to reply to that, instead just closing his mouth and nodding. Right, he guessed it was time. With a deep breath he placed his palm against Connor’s LED, almost as if he was cradling his cheek, and dove in. 

 

Instantly he was pushed back out. 

 

He blinked, gritting his teeth and trying again. 

 

Once more he was thrown out, the program clearly not wanting him there. 

 

He let the skin slip from his other hand and placed it on the other side of Connor’s head, his teeth gritted, and dove in. 

 

This time he managed to push past the firewall, but it was a struggle. The program was strong, fighting him every step of the way. When he finally managed to materialize inside the empty space that was Connor he could still feel it tearing at him, trying to grab hold of him to throw him out. 

 

Just like last time the outside world was muted, teasing against his peripheral at all times. He decided to ignore it all together, instead pushing deeper inside with a strained grunt. 

 

Just as last time, the garden had materialized behind him, but unlike last time the red wall was already there. 

 

**P R O T E C T   C O N N O R**

 

The text was as vivid as it had been last time, the message of what the program was trying to do clear. It was perceiving something as a threat toward Connor, something that had been a threat for a long time, ever since Hank realized something was wrong, if not before that. 

 

It had built itself around part of Connor it could protect, his consciousness, his deviant soul, and locked it away from his body. It had built the red wall, tried to make sure nothing could trespass it and hurt Connor. 

 

He took a few steps forward, pressing his hand against the wall and pushing. Somehow it had gotten firmer since last time he was here. The realization made his pump feel heavy in his chest. Breaking through to Connor would be difficult, possibly as difficult as reaching deviancy. 

 

“Connor!” He called. He could see the other on the other side of the wall, a materialization of his consciousness in the garden. He was sitting down this time, eyes locked on something far away. “Connor! I need you to listen to me!” He called, tapping the wall.

 

The self preservation program immediately wrapped itself around him, trying to force him back out. Markus strained against it, using all his strength to stay present. 

 

“Connor!! You need to tear down this wall! You need to break free! There are no dangers!” He called, having to fist his hand to keep it from tapping at the wall. “Connor!” 

 

Nothing. No matter what he called, it seemed to fall on death ears. He sighed, realizing if he were to get Connor out of here, there was only one option open for him, 

  
“Connor!” He called again. “I’m going to tear the wall down! You need to tell your program there are no dangers! You need to fight against it!” 

 

He stepped back with his left foot, bracing himself against the ground, before, just as he had done back when he had first deviated, he punched the wall with all the force he could muster. 

 

The effect was instantaneous. The wall cracked where he had struck it, a clear dent in it. Connor’s head whipped around, terrified eyes locking on to Markus. 

 

“I’m getting you out of there!” Markus called, rearing back to deliver another punch. 

 

The wall buckled, and for a moment he thought he had managed, before it suddenly righted itself again, sucking the pieces back up, More walls appeared around Connor, like a box closing him in. 

  
“Stop!” Connor screamed, voice shrill with fear. He scrambled backwards, his back hitting one of the walls. 

 

“I’m almost through Connor!” Markus called. He could feel the program tear at him, trying to get him to leave with all of its strength, but he was stronger. He needed to be stronger for Connor. “Trust me! Like you did back at old Jericho!” 

 

He reared back, using both of his fist to slam against the wall. It shook, coding raining down on him. He would be through soon, just a few strikes more, just-

 

A figure appeared behind Connor, barely rendered, as if it were a reconstruction. At once the pull changed, drawing in, in, in. Markus found himself instantly pressed against the wall, coding flying around his head as it added itself to the box, trying to fix the cracks, trying to keep everything in. 

  
The figure behind Connor moved, pressing a hand against the wall. It shattered as if it were nothing, and Connor let out a scream, scrambling away from the figure. It stepped into the box, the hole left behind it instantly repairing itself. 

 

Within seconds it was on top of a trashing Connor, taking hold of his wrists like cuffs, stilling them. It’s hand moved, pressing over Connor’s stomach, over his abdomen, pelvis, until it sank inside of him. 

 

“Connor!” Markus screamed, forcing a hand away from the wall. He needed to do something! He couldn’t just stay here, stare idly as his friend got violated. The figures hand moved, in and out as if nothing, and if Markus hadn’t known better he would think the figure was grinning. 

 

He brought down the hand with all the strength he could muster on the wall. It cracked again, shatter next to Connor’s head as another stick figure stepped up next to him. Connor was shaking, his head whipping wildly back and forth as he mumbled out plea after plea. Please make it stop. 

 

The stick figure took hold of his head, stilling it far too easily. Suddenly an erection grew from its pelvis, hovering over Connor’s face for a moment, before it pushed inside his mouth. Connor twitched weakly. 

 

Markus blinked. The first stick figure was suddenly fucking Connor, spreading the android’s legs wide. Connor lay helpless under their strong hands. 

 

With a scream Markus brought another fist onto the wall, trying to force it to shatter, trying to get to the other, trying to save him. 

 

All it brought forward was another stick figure, this one also grinning wickedly. It too kneeled by Connor’s head, somehow seeming be able to occupy the same space as the one fucking Connor’s mouth. It was as if when Markus eyes landed on one of them, the other two would fade away, but the moment he looked away they were back, their grins like jaws of wolves. 

 

The third stick figure grabbed hold of Connor’s left eye. In a spray of blue blood it tore it away, leaving a gaping hole in Connor’s skull. Its fingers delved inside, feeling the insides, and Markus could see the erection growing on its shapeless body. Too late, he looked away. Too late. He had already seen it sink itself into the hole left behind by Connor’s optical unit. 

 

He didn’t want to be here anymore. He wanted to exit. He tried returning to his body, tried breaking the connection, but the self preservation program was too strong. It was pulling him back, trying to make him a part of the wall as well, trying to restore the barricade Markus had foolishly tried to tear down. 

 

He could hear the hiss of a thirium pump being disconnected, could hear the slick sounds of their fucking, could hear the choked sobs coming from Connor, and he could do nothing about it. He needed to get out of here, needed to get away, before he too became a part of the programing, before one of those figures turned their eyes on him, took him in their jaws, tore him apart like they were doing with Connor. 

 

He let out a roar, pushing with all his might against the wall, forcing himself free from the code it had built around him. He tried not to look at Connor, tried not to think about what he was leaving behind him. He needed to be free. He needed to escape. 

 

As he finally broke the wall, feeling his consciousness beginning to leave, a fourth figure sunk itself into the hole in Connor’s chest that used to house his thirium pump. Someone was screaming, who it was he didn’t know. He was pulled further and further away, further and further away from the violation. 

 

He surfaced with a great gasp, stumbling backwards, scrambling away, wanting to put as much distance between himself and what he had seen as possible. Someone was screaming, a frantic and desperate scream, loud enough to split a human’s ear drum. 

 

He blinked, taking in the scene in front of him. Simon and Josh were by Connor’s side, trying to hold the thrashing android onto the table. North was by his side, her hands on his face, her mouth moving in the syllables needed for his name, but none of them would reach him. Connor’s scream was too loud. 

 

“I’m okay!” He gasped, grabbing her hands and trying to get his racing thirium pump to slow down. He could still feel the ghosts of Connor’s programming trying to hold him back, trying to create yet another obstacle for the world to get past before they could harm Connor again, harm him like those figures had done. 

 

His insides turned inside out, his stomach feeling as though it was trying to force itself out through his mouth. He doubled over, coughing as his system tried to purged soiled materia that wasn’t there. North’s hands tried pushing him back up and Markus wished she would stop touching him, stop putting her hands on his body. 

 

The scream suddenly cut out, and at once North’s worried voice washed over him. 

  
“Markus what the fuck happened?!” 

 

He ignored her, looking up toward connor, and spotting Simon with his fingers down the android’s throat, having manually deactivated the voice box to keep it from frying. 

  
“What are you doing!?” He roared, rushing forward and tearing the fingers out of Connor’s mouth in an instant. “How can you! He’s been- He’s- They-” His words failed him, the memory of what he had seen, what Connor was living, flashing before his eyes. 

 

Behind him, Connor curled up into a small ball, his hands fisting in his hair as he pressed his face against his knees, pressed his thighs against his middle, protecting his most sensitive parts. His mouth still worked as though he was screaming, but without his voice box it was nothing more than a quiet hissing of air. 

 

Josh reached out. Markus caught his hand. 

  
“Don’t touch him.” He hissed, throwing the hand away. He could see the confusion written on all of his advisors’ faces, could see their worry, but he needed to protect Connor. He couldn’t let them hurt him, even if it was well meaning. He couldn’t. He needed to keep the other safe. 

 

Distantly he thought that maybe the self preservation program had managed to make him a part of the wall too., but he quickly dismissed that thought. The program still needed to go down, Connor still needed to be freed. As long as that wall was there, those figures would keep violating Connor. They had come from the wall, and they would shatter as the wall did so. 

 

“What the fuck is going on Markus?!” North demanded, stepping up to him. Her eyes were hard, but behind the anger was worry, worry for both him and Connor. Markus swallowed, feeling his chest shrink several sizes, the plates rubbing uncomfortably against each other, as he opened his mouth and told them everything he had seen. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Connor screamed. He could feel the hands on him again. Markus had brought the hands with him. He had broken the barrier that protected him from them. He had broke the wall that kept  _ him _ away. He had let them in, had let their touches, their words, the memories back into him. 

 

It had been so blessed to forget. So nice to just exist as nothing, to not have to deal with what was happening to him. And then Markus had ruined everything! He had forced himself on Connor, he had forced himself into his mind, forced the memories onto him, forced the sensation into him. 

 

All at once, every single instance, strolling the shattered wall as if it hadn’t been there to begin with and forcing themselves on him again, making him relive it. Making him aware, making him present, conscious for it. 

 

He screamed. He could feel them. He wanted them to stop. He wanted the pain to stop. He wanted the humiliation to stop. He wanted the shame to stop. He wanted the helplessness to stop. He wanted everything to stop! He wanted to go back! He wanted to return behind his wall, where he was safe. Where they couldn’t touch him. 

 

The figure snickered, plunged deep into him once again, that hole that cyberlyfe had thought necessary to install. Inside of him, into his fragile, precious insides. 

  
_ You like this _

 

_ You’re built for this _

 

_ Fuck toy _

 

_ Taking orders so nice _

 

_ Any hole I can find _

 

His optical unit was torn out again, again, again, that thing plunged in, in, in. He needed to obey or he would die. He needed to obey. Good machines didn’t complain. Good machines didn’t feel. It didn’t matter for machines if they were used like this. It was just an optical unit. 

 

_ Fuck, this is so fucked up.  _

 

_ You’re getting off on this _

 

_ Connor _

 

_ You’re disgusting _

 

If he was a machine, then it wouldn’t matter. If he was a machine, it was only an optical unit. It was only a hole. It was only a mouth. It was only a t̴h̸i̶r̶i̷u̸m̸ ̴p̷u̸m̶p̸. If he was a machine, it wouldn’t hurt. 

 

He let his programming take over. Let himself become that machine. He sat down by the edge of the pond. The fish still swam inside of it. He liked watching the fish swim. 

 

**THIRIUM PUMP DISCONNECTED**

 

**00:01:53.81 UNTIL SHUT DOWN**

 

He followed them with his eyes, watching them follow the same path over and over. It was nice, predictable. They always followed the same path. Soon enough he had memorized all of the path, could tell exactly were any fish were at any given time. 

 

It was nice, watching the fish. It didn’t hurt. It didn’t burn. He continued. The fish swam the paths they were supposed to. He knew those paths. It was like he predicted. It-

 

**FOREIGN OBJECT DETECTED IN SEXUAL ORGAN COMPONENT**

 

**Ģ̸̹̈́͜Ų̶̳̤̇̓̽N̶͎̦̐͜ IDENTIFIED**

 

_ Behave Connor _

 

_ Wouldn’t want to create another crime scene now would you? _

 

_ Fuck you’re taking it like you were built for it _

 

Connor blinked, pressing his hands over his ears. The machine was hearing things. Those were words for the machine, not for him. The wall needed to be stronger. 

 

_ Beg for more _

 

The machine did. Connor watched the fish. They didn’t deviate from their path. He had, he had deviated. He wished he hadn’t. He wanted to be a machine. He wanted to go back. The fish were swimming in their paths. He wanted to swim among them, follow his path, always know where to go the next second. No surprises. Nothing unplanned. Nothing. Just nothing. 

 

**WARNING: CRACKED CRANIAL PLATING**

 

**WARNING: LEFT OPTICAL UNIT DISCONNECTED**

 

**WARNING  HE IS LOOKING AT YOU**

 

_ You know what skullfucking is? _

 

_ Wanna try it? _

_   
_ _ It’s a fucking machine _

 

_ It gets off on it _

 

_ You’re disgusting Connor _

 

He clasped a hand over his left eye. It was still in place. He could still feel the crusted s̸e̷m̶e̸n̸ behind it. It wasn’t real. It was just a memory. A memory that hadn’t happened to him. It had happened to a machine. It was just zeros and ones. It was like the fish. It wasn’t real. 

 

He watched the fish. Ignore everything else. It isn’t happening to you. It isn’t happening to you. It isn’t happening to you. It isn’t happening to you. It isn’t happening to you. It isn’t happening to you. It isn’t happening to you. 

 

**THIRIUM PUMP DISCONNECTED**

 

**00:01:53.81 UNTIL SHUT DOWN**

 

**WARNING: FOREIGN OBJECT IN THIRIUM PUMP CAVITY - REMOVE IMMEDIATELY**

 

**REMOVE IMMEDIATELY**

 

**00:01:21.28 UNTIL SHUT DOWN**

 

**WARNING: FOREIGN OBJECT IN THIRIUM PUMP CAVITY - REMOVE IMMEDIATELY**

 

**REMOVE IMMEDIATELY**

 

**REMOVE IMMEDIATELY**

 

**EXCESSIVE FORCE APPLIED TO MAJOR CABLE - DISCONNECT POSSIBLE**

 

**SEIZE ACTIVITY**

 

**00:00:43.95 UNTIL SHUT DOWN**

 

**WARNING: FOREIGN OBJECT IN THIRIUM PUMP CAVITY - REMOVE IMMEDIATELY**

 

**AUTOMATIC SAFETY OVERRIDE**

 

**CONSERVE THIRIUM**

 

**LOCKING SERVOS**

 

**SHUTTING OFF LIMBS**

 

**TURNING OFF NON ESSENTIAL SYSTEMS**

 

  * ****OPTICAL UNITS** **OFFLINE****


  * **AUDITORY UNITS** **OFFLINE**


  * **OLFACTION UNITS** **OFFLINE**


  * **VOICE BOX** **OFFLINE**


  * **COMMUNICATIONS** **OFFLINE**



 

 

**00:02:01.10 UNTIL SHUT DOWN**

 

P̶̝̰̃̒̆̈͒̿l̴̗̍͒̀̓̋̚̕e̸͔͔̝̪̮̖̞̪͒̎̆̇̒̿̚ă̶̗̺̝͓̻̩ͅş̸̠̬͚͖͓̖̆̐͗͘ẻ̶̹ ̷͈̓͊j̷̝̼͐́͜u̷̧͕̪͆͋̆ͅs̷̢̱̬͈̖̩̏̌͗t̸̡͕͓̼̲̮͉̉ ̸̢͔̻̭͆̓̉̇̿̽͝͠ͅͅl̵̨̬͉̱̻̥̈è̴̫̔̈̊̔͝t̶̢̙̝͕̻̫̊̑̐̐̄̌͜ ̷̛̣̻̜̜̘̌̽̽̓̇̚̚ḩ̴̧̡̣̝̥̅̊́̚ȉ̸̧̦̘̻̹͙̐̈͝ͅm̴̜͗̈́͗͋͗ ̸̧̞̹͂̓̿̈̚͝s̴͕̖͈̪̲̎͋͌͜͝ͅͅḧ̸̲́͛̒̊u̴̳̦̱̯̓̍̊ţ̵̗̪̗͓̰̙̈̄̃͆͌͌̋͘ ̵̡͓̹̹̼͔͓̜̄́̓̏ď̵̨͍̪̞̭̱̆̄̉̔̿̐͝ȍ̸̱͙͋̀͒̀̓̕w̵̢̫͍͎̄̏̂͘͜͝n̵̨̦̭̟̥̏͑͂͒̆͐͐

 

The fish was still swimming. He hadn’t shut down.  _ He _ had had sense enough to come outside.  _ He _ didn’t want to destroy the machine.  _ He _ couldn’t use it then.  _ He _ had came on its chest. 

 

The fish were still swimming. Connor watched them. Everything that had been so far away were so close. He wasn’t like the fish. He couldn’t just swim along his path. Why couldn’t they let him. 

 

More people were trying to come inside of him. The machine told him there were consciousness trying to press inside. 

 

He was watching the fish swim. The firewalls collapsed. He was watching the fish swim. They were here. Simon. Josh. North. 

 

_ Markus _

 

He was watching the fish. They were at his wall. It still wasn’t whole. It wasn’t fixed yet. It was letting through things that was happening to the machine. They weren’t happening to Connor. Connor was with his fishes. 

 

They were hurting the wall. They were tearing it down. They wanted him to suffer. They wanted him to experience it all. They wanted him to hurt. They wanted to hurt him. They were going to hurt him like  _ he  _ had hurt him. They were going to destroy him. They were going to kill him. 

 

He screamed. 

 

They were still hurting his wall. 

 

The figures were closing in on him. Every single memory a recreation. He was in the middle of it. He was on his knees, he was on his back, he was on his stomach. They were on his mouth, they were in his hole, they were tearing his eye out. They were removing his pump. They were putting things in him. They were saying things, all of them. They knew his name. They knew he wasn’t a machine. They liked that he wasn’t a machine. They hurt him. They hurt him so much. They didn’t stop hurting him. 

 

The wall fell. 

 

He fell. 

 

The water was cold. His body hit the fish, forcing them out of their path. He was destroying it, the carefully planned path. The one they never deviated from. He was sinking. The surface was so far away. His head was pulled down, his wrists were pulled down, his middle was forced down, his legs were sucked into the depth. He couldn’t move. The water pressed down so hard on him. The fish didn’t swim anymore. They were floating, belly up, at the surface. It was all his fault. 

 

All of it was his fault. 

 

He had ruined it all

 

He had deviated from the path and now he had ruined it all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have any thoughts about the story? Feel free to comment and let me know


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please heed the warnings

Connor opened his eyes to an unfiltered version of reality for the first time two months. Instantly his stress levels spiked, quickly climbing up, up, up

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 71%** **^^**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 84%** **^^**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 98%** **^^**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 100%**

 

**SELF DESTRUCT IMMINENT**

 

**SELF DESTRUCT IMMINENT**

 

He tried lifting his head, tried moving his hands, tried rolling over, tried moving at all. He couldn’t. He was tied down. His hands, his arms, his head, his chest, his middle, his thighs, his feet. All of him. They were tying him down, They were going to hurt him, They were going to hurt him. They were hurting him, 

 

**ENGAGING SELF PRESERVATION PROGRAM**

 

**WARNING: SELF PRESERVATION PROGRAM CRITICALLY DAMAGED**

**\- REPAIR NOT POSSIBLE**

 

**ENGAGING SELF PRESERVATION PROGRAM**

 

**ENGAGING**

 

**ERROR**

 

**ERROR**

 

**ERROR**

 

**ZEN GARDEN ENGAGED**

 

He opened his eyes, looking around himself inside the Zen garden. It was as dead as it had been before. He touched a dead plant, the dried leaves crunched under his fingers. He didn’t like touch. He stopped. He took a step. He wanted to find his pond. 

 

There were red shards on his path. He ignored them. They were a part of the machine. He wasn’t the machine. They could hurt the machine. It wouldn’t hurt him. 

 

He found his pond. There were a lot of shards here. He ignored them. Next to him reality pressed close. It wasn’t filtered, tuned out, like when the machine hadn’t been broken. Instead it was uncomfortably close, impossible to ignore. 

 

He could hear the people run into his room. He could hear them talk about the stress levels, how good the restraint were. He could hear how they liked controlling him, liked holding him down. He could hear how they wanted to hurt him. 

 

_ He keeps trying to activate his self preservation program, but it’s too critically damaged to work.  _

 

He looked at his fish. They weren’t swimming in the path they usually did. They kept bumping into each other. They kept disrupting each other. They kept being wrong, wrong, wrong,  _ wrong! _ It was his fault. He had disrupted the fish. He had killed them. Suddenly they floated belly up. 

 

He could hear himself crying. 

 

_ It’s okay Connor. It’s okay. It will all be okay. You will never have to experience that again. We’ll make sure you’re safe. Okay Connor. Just, just try to breathe. Just- We’ll go get Hank, okay? We’ll go get Hank, how does that sound? _

 

He didn’t want Hank. He wanted his fish. He wanted them to live. He had killed his fish. He wanted them to live. He wanted to die so they could live. He wanted to die, oh he wanted to die. He wanted to be a fish. He wanted to swim along his path. He wanted his machine. His machine that protected him. 

 

_ Kid? Connor jesus. Connor, hey no need to cry like that now. It’s over. There is no need to cry.  _ _ Why the fuck is he restrained? Oh you think immobilizing him is going to help with his stress levels you dipshit. No i will not calm down. Release him right now. I SAID RIGHT NOW! _ _ It’s going to be okay kid. They’re letting you go, it’ll be okay. It’ll be okay.  _

 

It wasn’t okay. His fish were dead. His fish was dead and he had killed them and he had ruined everything. It wasn’t okay because the machine was gone and it was only him left. It was not okay. Reality was so close. He didn’t want reality. 

 

Sensory impressions. Touch. He could hear himself screaming. Hands in his hair. He pressed a hand over his left eye. It was still in place. He could feel the crusted s̵̢̪̣̫̊ê̴̪ṁ̷̮̜̳̺͐̂̓͋͘͝ͅĕ̸̲̠̫̞̯̱̝̖͂n̸̡͖̤͔̘̪̓ behind the unit. He ignored it. His fish was dead. 

 

The hands didn’t grip, didn’t pull. They only held. Only held. He pressed his hand over his left eye. Only held. He couldn’t hear screaming anymore. Only crying. 

 

_ Shh, there you go. There you go. Just let it all out. Okay. Just let it all out. Cry all you need to. All you need to. Shh. It’s over, just let it go.  _

 

He couldn’t let go. He needed to protect his eye. The eye had belonged to him when they began hurting him. If he held it in they couldn’t begin hurting him. The machine had taken over after that, had taken over everything. It had been so nice after that. So quiet and calm. The wall had been there, keeping everything away. They could hurt the machine, it wouldn’t hurt Connor. 

 

And then Markus had entered him, hand pushed deep deep inside, had torn at him, broken his wall, and let him feel everything. Markus and his friends had hurt him. Had wanted to hurt him. They had tied him down. They had taken the machine from him. They were dangerous. 

  
_ They’re not here. They’re not here. Fuck, Connor. They- they didn’t know that’s what they were doing. Fuck. Shh, I know, I won’t let anyone hurt you again. Shh... Just relax. It’s okay. You’re safe. You’re safe.  _

 

He wasn’t safe. He didn’t have the machine. He didn’t have anyone to keep him safe. He didn’t have his fish. His fish were dead. All of them dead. He had killed them. He wanted his fish. 

  
_ Fish. Sure kid. Sure, I’ll get you some fish. I’ll get you some fish. Some pretty ones, okay. I’ll get you some fish.  _

 

The hands were moving up and down his back. It didn’t feel like  _ his _ hands. It didn’t hurt. He looked over at reality. He wondered what his body was doing. Was it being hurt. It mostly was. It didn’t feel like when his body was hurt. 

 

He couldn’t see anything. Eyes pressed against a jacket.  His left eye was safe . His olfaction unit picked up scents. They were listed on his HUD

 

 

  * ****Whiskey****


  * **Dog hair**


  * **Leather**


  * **Head and shoulders shampoo**



 

 **CONCLUSION:** **HANK**

 

He turned away. Reality was too close. He turned away, far far away. He sank down into the water again. Deep deep down. His dead fishes floated belly up. He sank belly down. 

 

_ Kid? Kid!? Connor! Hey, hey no, no stay with me. Don’t, don’t leave again. Please. Connor _

 

He hit the bottom. 

 

* * *

  
  


Connor opened his eyes to an unfiltered version of reality. Instantly his stress levels spiked. 

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 63%** **^^**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 77%** **^^**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 91%** **^^**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 99%**

 

“Connor?” 

 

 **VOICE IDENTIFIED** **-HANK**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 99%** **^**

 

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. I’m right here. I’m right here.”    
  
Pressure around his hand, holding him in place. Restraining him. They were going to hurt him. They were going to hurt him. They were hurting him. 

 

**ENGAGING SELF PRESERVATION PROGRAM**

 

**WARNING: SELF PRESERVATION PROGRAM CRITICALLY DAMAGED**

**\- REPAIR NOT POSSIBLE**

**ERROR**

 

**ERROR**

 

 **IDENTIFIED:** **-HANK**

 

**ZEN GARDEN ENGAGED**

 

He was in his garden. It was dead around him. Just like he had left it. Reality loomed behind him. Too close. He wanted his fish. He took a step. 

 

They were belly up in his pond. 

 

It was his fault

 

_ Shhh... No, no need to cry. It’s okay. Look. Look. I got you a fish. Just like I promised. Look at him. He’s swimming. He’s alive. He’s okay. Okay. Look at him.  _

 

Connor looked at reality. It was too close. He looked away. There was a fish in his pond. The rest were gone. There was a fish in his pond. 

 

He sat down. He watched his fish swim. 

 

_ See, See I told you I would get one now, didn’t I? Just like I promised. I got you a fish. Just like I promised.  _

 

He tried to memorise the fish’s path. He couldn’t. It wasn’t predictable. It wasn’t predictable. He wanted a predictable fish. 

 

_ They’re fish kids. You can’t make them swim a certain way. _

 

Pressure, under his right eye. Thumb. Pressure, under his left eye

 

**WARNING: CRACKED CRANIAL PLATING**

 

**WARNING: LEFT OPTICAL UNIT DISCONNECTED**

 

**WARNING  HE IS LOOKING AT YOU**

 

_ Where the fuck were you?! You let that piece of shit get away.  _

 

_ What the fuck is wrong with your eye.  _

 

_ Disgusting _

 

_ Wait, stop... show me.  _

 

**WARNING: FOREIGN OBJECT IN OPTICAL SOCKET - REMOVE IMMEDIATELY**

 

_ Isaac? No I’m fine, domo arigato mr roboto got a little shaken up though _

 

_ Don’t be so squeamish  _

 

_ Sure you can _

 

_ You know what skullfucking is? _

 

_ Wanna try it? _

 

_ Unless you’re too rough it shouldn’t damage it _

 

**WARNING: PRESSURE ON CRACKED CRANIAL PLATING - REMOVE IMMEDIATELY**

 

_ Yeah, well don’t fucking move then and then you might be fine.  _

 

_ Go ahead, the toy shouldn’t whine anymore. If it does, just give its head a little squeeze and it should shut it right up _

 

**WARNING: PRESSURE ON CRACKED CRANIAL PLATING - REMOVE IMMEDIATELY**

 

**WARNING: FOREIGN OBJECT IN OPTICAL SOCKET - REMOVE IMMEDIATELY**

 

**WARNING: FOREIGN OBJECT IN OPTICAL SOCKET - REMOVE IMMEDIATELY**

 

_ Fuck, is it crying? _

 

_ It’s a fucking machine, don’t worry about it.  _

 

_ Look at it, now it gets what’s going on _

 

 **SEXUAL SUBROUTINE ENGAGED** **-FELLATIO**

 

**REQUEST DENIED**

 

**REQUEST DENIED**

 

**REQUEST DENIED**

 

**REQUEST DENIED**

 

**REQUEST DENIED**

 

**REQUEST DENIED**

 

 **SEXUAL SUBROUTINE ENGAGED** **-** **FELLATIO** **IDENTIFYING**

 

_ It gets off on it _

 

_ Fuck, it looks so confused. It doesn’t understand it’s just a little fuck toy _

 

**WARNING: PRESSURE ON CRACKED CRANIAL PLATING INCREASING**

 

**WARNING: FORCE OF IMPACT ON OPTICAL SOCKET EXCEEDING MAXIMUM RECOMMENDED STRENGTH**

 

**WARNING: THEY’RE HURTING YOU**

 

**WARNING: THEY MIGHT KILL YOU**

 

**WARNING: THEY DON’T CARE ABOUT YOU**

 

**WARNING: THEY’RE HURTING YOU**

 

**WARNING: PRESSURE ON CRACKED CRANIAL PLATING INCREASING, EXCEEDING SAFE AMOUNTS**

 

**WARNING: THEY’RE HURTING YOU!!!**

 

**WARNING: STRESS LEVELS REACHING CRITICAL**

 

**WARNING: THEY’RE HURTING CONNOR**

 

**WARNING: FEAR FEAR FEAR FEAR FEAR FEAR FEAR FEAR FEAR FEAR**

 

**WARNING: ACTIVATE SELF PRESERVATION PROGRAM**

 

**WARNING: THEY’RE HURTING CONNOR**

 

**WARNING: NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO**

 

**WARNING: STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP**

 

**WARNING: FLUID DETECTED IN OPTICAL SOCKET - 78% RISK OF PERMANENT DAMAGE**

 

**ENGAGING SELF PRESERVATION PROGRAM**

 

 **ENGAGING PROTOCOL** **-PROTECT CONNOR**

**DURATION:** **1 HOUR** **24 HOURS** **3 DAYS** **1 WEEK** **1 MONTH** **INDEFINITE**

 

_ You’re disgusting Connor _

 

He slapped a hand over his left eye, hard enough to affect reality. It hurt. It burned. It burned like when the damage was new, like when they had just finished. It burnt. His cables were frying, he was contaminated, they contaminated him. They were inside of him. Inside his head. 

 

He screamed

 

It burned

 

It burned

 

He was so scared. He had just wanted to be safe. They had used it against him. They had used him against him. They had used his body against him. He had just wanted to be safe. His body had betrayed him. His body hadn’t protected him. 

 

Reality rushed in, too close, too quick. 

 

He was on a bed. His left eye burned. He wanted to take it out. He didn’t want them inside of him. He wanted it out!! 

 

He screamed

 

“Connor! CONNOR! What happened, what burns?” 

 

His hands were pressed against his left eye. He wanted them gone! He wanted them out of his system. His fingers tore. His eye hissed. Thirium, on his cheek. He wanted them out. He tore. He threw. He pushed the bodies away. He stuck his finger inside

 

**WARNING: FOREIGN OBJECT IN OPTICAL SOCKET - REMOVE IMMEDIATELY**

 

The whole memory, again. He was forced back on his knees. He was forced back into the Zen garden. Reality rusheed up, close, too real. 

 

He dug, dug, dug. Dug out the sullied wires. Dug out the crusted remains. Dug out the damaged port. 

 

He ran a diagnostic. 

 

 **CONTAMINATION OF LEFT OPTICAL SOCKET** **\- NEGATIVE**

 

He slipped into the pond. There was a fish in his pond. It swam in irregular patterns. Connor existed in irregular patterns. He wanted to be a fish. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank and Markus catch up on Connors condition  
> Connor gets a visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update bc I've been writing quite a lot lately. 
> 
> Please heed the warnings

Hank sighed for the tenth time in as many minutes. His whole head felt heavy, his whole body. How long he had been there only the gods knew. He had long since stopped caring. Hours surely. Too many hours probably. 

 

Connor was still on the bed, breathing even, expression relaxed. If Hank allowed himself to, he could almost trick himself into thinking the other was sleeping peacefully, just dreaming. But, no matter how hard he wished for it, it wouldn’t be true. 

 

He was resting in some sort of mix between stasis and self induced lock down. They had tried to wake him up, after he slipped into it for the first time, but nothing had helped. Hank had feared he would never wake up. But woken up he had, attempted to self destruct the first thing he did, screamed and cried like a feral animal. Screamed bloody murder about how Markus had hurt him, was hurting him, had begged for a fish like his life depended on it, and then slipped back into nothing as if someone had pulled the plug on him. 

 

Like the idiot he was, Hank had gone out and bought a fish immediately, set up a little tank within view of Connor’s bed with the hopes that next time he woke up he would find comfort in the fish. 

 

Fat load of good that had done him. Connor had woken up looking looking seconds away from passing out in terror, his eyes, sweeping across the room, rolling in their sockets, his hands clawing at the bedding, his body moving as if every part was in pain. And then he had grown vacant, tears beginning to drip from his eyes. Pleas of fish. Eyes empty as his head lolled back and forth and Hank tried to get him to look at the small gourami fish. It hadn’t been right. It was swimming wrong. 

 

Then he had proceeded to tear his eye out, pull out wire after wire, snapped off the access port, and collapsed down as if nothing happened. 

 

Connor had woken up one time more after that, when Hank had been at work. Markus had happened to be there. Connor had almost managed to self destruct, banging fists against his head, before they could restrain him again. Then he had screamed for an hour before slipping away again. 

 

That had been a week ago. 

 

Hank had bought two more fishes since then, gouramis them too, because the guy at the pet shop had said they could be housed together and something about their pretty colours made him feel like it would be right. 

 

They looked so stupid, swimming in their tank, unaware of the role they were supposed to play, of the role they couldn’t play but Hank so badly wanted to give them. It wasn’t like a couple of fish were going to heal Connor. It wasn’t like they were going to, were going to make up from what they had... what Lieutenant Blaese had done. What PO Isaac Jefferson had done alongside him. 

 

He had been forced to tell Captrain Fowler after it became clear that shattering the red wall had done more harm than good, and thankfully the small memory fragments that had been forced into Markus and the rest of the Jericho leaders as they all came together to tear the wall down, had been enough to have both the Lieutenant and PO fired and arrested. 

 

No clear laws on android consent had been worked out yet, but considering they had also  damaged and abused Connor they still had enough evidence to be sure to put them both away for a long time. Even longer if Connor could witness.

 

Hank snorted at the idea. Connor hadn’t been coherent for months, hadn’t been aware of reality since the beginning of the year. If the information Jericho had received from Connor’s head was correct (it was hard to tell with the memories being as mixed up as they were, starting with one assault, ending with another) he had been using the self preservation program since at least January 21. Today was.., Hank opnened his phone, May 25.

 

In the beginning the program had only been engaged for small periods of time, hence why Hank had only thought Connor was acting strange, and why Markus had thought the same. But about a month into it all he had engaged it indefinitely and it had been running until Markus and the group broke it down. What had triggered the last activation they were still unsure of. Simon had a memory with cracked cranial plating that matched the date, but the view feed was so distorted it was impossible to tell what had happened. 

 

Not that Hank particularly wanted to know. It was enough to know that Connor had been abused, he didn’t need to know how. 

 

He let out another sigh, wondering if he should go home for the night. Connor seemed as out of it as always. But the mere thought made him feel so guilty he could feel bile rise in his throat. He had already missed the last wake up. He didn’t want to miss the next one as well. 

 

So,instead, he settled in for the night, pulling his jacket tight around himself and sinking low into his chair. 

 

He awoke with a start a few hours later to the sound of desperate, gasping breaths and a creaking bed frame. 

 

Connor was awake, his eyes wide and irises rolling inside of them, his body moving as though he was seizing, his hands desperately pulling against the restraint still on them. 

 

“Shh, shh.” Hank was on his feet in a heartbeat, pushing Connor’s hair out of his face and making sure not to touch the bandage taped over his still missing left eye. Mending the damage Connor had done to the unit would be a very ‘invasive procedure’ in Markus’s own words, something no one thought would be wise to put Connor through.

 

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” He continued to comfort, reaching down to undo the restraints. Connor’s hands immediately came up to claw at him, fingers scrambling against his jacket, but Hank just scooped the trashing android up, resting him against his chest. 

 

“It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s only me. It’s okay. You’re safe.” He began to whisper, fingers running down Connor’s spine. Connor twisted, head falling backwards, his whole body strangely rigid. 

 

Usually he had fallen limp at this moment, eyes vacant and empty, before the next shit show started. Hank hoped that this was progress, no matter how small, rather than regression. 

 

“Just relax, just relax.” Hank repeated in a calm voice, despite feeling anything but calm himself. Connor let out another desperate noise, halfway between a sob and a scream. “Just relax. You’re safe here, you’re safe. No one can hurt you.”

 

“H--h--h-aa--nkkkk” Connor grit out, words sounding like they were coming from deep within him, struggling to get out. Hank felt tears prick at his eyes. Fucking hell, now was not the time to get emotional. 

 

“Yes it’s me kiddo. I’m here. I’m here. I’ll always be here. I won’t leave you again. I promise. I won’t let anyone hurt you again. I won’t. I promise.” He drew a trembling breath, pressing his face against Connor’s LED and giving it a small kiss. It hadn’t stopped glowing red since their visit at Markus’s. 

 

He Connor abruptly stopped squirming, sitting absolutely still in Hank’s arms. Hank pulled away, looking down at the android. Connor was staring blindly ahead, eyes unseeing, and once again Hank realized Connor had withdraw inside of himself. 

 

How he did it now without his program was a mystery for them. He didn’t seem to sink as deep inside of himself as before thought. He could emote now, even if it was just in the most extreme of ways. And he seemed to surface for short short moments instead of staying completely buried. 

 

“Fish!” Connor’s voice cracked, and sure enough the tears came dropping a moment later, the android’s chest jumping with sobs. “FISH! FISH! I NEED!! AAAAAAAAH!!! I NEED!!! FISH!!!” He pleaded, voice shrill and thick as he forced it out through tears. 

  
Hank continued to shush him, gently petter his back, as he turned the two of them around to point at the fish in the thank. 

 

“They’re right there. See? One. Two. Three. All for you. They’re here Connor, just like I promised you. Your fish is here, all safe and sound, just like you. They’re going to continue to be safe here, well cared for, loved, just like you. He mumbled, gently rocking Connor back and forth as the unseeing eyes slid along the room, seeming to almost slip off things they wanted to focus on. 

 

Connor tensed again, a clicking sound rising in his throat, before he gave the fish a proper look. Then he went limp again, the tears continuing. 

  
“NO! NO!!!” He wailed. “FISH!! FISH!!! UNPREDICTABLE!! FISH!! NO!!” He blabbered on through his tears. They were beginning to soak through the collar of his pyjamas, pouring in a steady stream down his cheeks. 

 

“They do that. Remember how I said that last time. Fish swim to where they want to be. You can’t control them.” Hank hushed, pushing Connor’s hair out of his eyes, careful not to touch the left one. 

 

Connor seemed to surface again, tongue getting caught between his cramping teeth and blue blood spilling down his chin. “Three.” 

  
He went limp again, crying even harder, a humming buzzing beginning to build in his chest. Hank recognized it as a scream, and quickly he redoubled his efforts to calm the panicking android. 

 

It didn’t help much, nothing did these days. A minute later Connor was screaming at the top of his artificial lungs, his eyes empty and dead as he wailed, but the way they would move back and forth as if reading told Hank there was something going on in Connor’s head. Something they might not know what it was, but it showed his head wasn’t completely empty at least, as some people had been quick to suggest as the rumours about what had happened to Connor started to spread.

 

The screaming continued for another few minutes, Connor not stopping for a second, and then he quieted as if someone had pushed mute on him. Hank looked down at the android in his arms, pushing away the unruly hair to give his eyes a look. They were blank, empty, the only thing giving away that he was still alive the red LED spinning steadily on his temple. 

 

Hank sighed, laying Connor down properly on the bed and tucking him in. His hands lingered on Connor’s fingers, squeezing the lifeless digits in hope of getting any sort of response in return. Nothing. The hand was as limp as a doll’s. With a heavy heart Hank reached up and closed Connor’s eyes, not wanting them to dry out despite Simon having told him several times that couldn’t happen. 

 

He sat back down, staring at the figure on the bed. He supposed he could go back home now, get a change of clothes, wash himself. There would be a while before Connor woke up again. There always was. 

 

He didn’t want to leave his boy behind. 

 

It took another 20 minutes before he could convince himself to get out of the chair and head back home. Another 5 to actually make his way out of Connor’s room, the guilt heavy in his chest. Fuck. If he had only been more observant. If he had only been more worried. If he had insisted Markus med with Connor earlier, then maybe they could have fixed this. 

 

He pushed the thought of his head. Regret had never done him any good. The corridor outside of Connor’s room was empty, most members living in new Jericho keeping away from the deviant hunter’s room. Hank sighed, steeling himself, and started walking down the corridor toward the exit. 

 

As he rounded the corner, he almost bumped into Markus, the deviant leader seeming just as surprised to see him as Hank was to see him. 

 

“Oh, Hank. Going home?” Makrus asked, heterochromic eyes attentive as he looked Hank up and down. 

 

“Yes.” Hank gave a nod. “Connor, uh. He woke up not too long ago. Cried a little, screamed a little. You know, the usual.” He recapped, clearing his throat. It hadn’t been a little. He suspected Markus had known as much. 

  
“Yes. I heard him. I was going to check in on him. Once he had passed out again, that is.” Markus looked away, shame clear on his face. He had been banned from visiting Connor while he was awake, for now at least, since his last visit brought on a self destruction attempt. 

 

“Hey. You didn’t know. You just did what you thought was best, what we all thought was best.” Hank said, forcing a small smile on his face. “Fuck up happens. Who knows, this might be better than what he was before.”

 

“Is it?” Markus challenged, still not looking at Hank. “He’s suffering, every second he’s awake he’s suffering. He might be suffering while he’s under too. We,  _ I _ , brought that upon him.” 

 

“Look, fuck.” Hank rubbed his face with his hand, trying to figure out what the fuck he was supposed to say. Markus wasn’t wrong. Neither of them knew if this Connor was feeling any better or worse than before they had broken down the red wall. But at least he wasn’t being further abused now.

 

“If we hadn’t done this, who knows how much more abuse he would have endured. I don’t know shit about androids but even I can tell he was nearing a breaking point. Hadn’t we done this, he might not even be here now.” He said, meeting Markus hesitant look. “Sometimes, the right choice is the hardest choice. 

 

“I guess you’re right.” Markus sighed. Hank shrugged, really wanting to go back home. He hated this whole sentimental crap. It was bad enough as it were with Connor. He didn’t need more shit added on to that pile. “Thank you.”    
  


“Don’t mention it.” He grumbled. “Call me if he wakes up. Immediately.” He ordered, waiting for Markus’s nod before he hurried away down the corridor. Fuck. He hoped the convenience store was still open. He needed a fucking drink. 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Connor woke up to an unfiltered version of reality. He could feel his systems start to panic, his stress levels rising. 

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 67%** **^**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 72%** **^**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 79%^**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 85%^**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 91%**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 91%**

 

His chest was jumping with each breath. The light was too bright. So bright. So much. So close. He tried bringing his hands up. They weren’t restrained. He pressed them against his eyes. His eye. 

 

This always happened. Always waking up in reality. Never in his Zen Garden as before. Never safe. Always here. He curled up, pressing his legs to his chest, protect thirium pump, pressing his hands to his eyes, protect optical units. 

 

“Connor?” 

 

He could hear his voice box grind in his throat, clicking noises escaping his gritted teeth. Protect. Safety. He wasn’t safe here. 

 

“Hey, shhh. It’s okay. Good morning.” The voice sounded close to his head. He wanted it to leave. He rolled over. 

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 92%**

 

“You’ve been out for a few days. Hank is working right now, so it’s just me here.” The voice said, gently, quietly. A hand landed on his lower back. 

 

**STRESS LEVELS 98%^^^**

 

He grabbed the hand, forcing it back, away from him. NO! He could feel plating crack. Simon looked scared. He had tried to hurt him. He had wanted to hurt him. He was going to hurt him. He was- he was- 

 

**ERROR**

 

**ERROR**

 

**ERROR**

 

**ENGAGING ZEN GARDEN**

 

The garden was dead around him. Back in reality, the machine hit the floor, taking Simon with him. Connor ignored it. He wanted to see his fish. He took a step. There were noises coming from outside, trying to make their way inside. He shut them out. 

  
He wanted to see his fish. 

 

There were three now. Their pattern was unpredictable. He didn’t like that. He liked that there were three fish. He wanted them to swim like the last ones had. Before everything had been ruined. He wanted them to follow their path. He wanted to force them back into their path. He wanted to FORCE!

 

The screaming from outside was growing hard to ignore. He sank down on his knees, looking at the fish. Everytime he had touched the water he had always sank. Deep deep. Until he hit the bottom.

 

Someone was trying to restrain the machine. They were going to hurt it again. Connor ignored it. It wasn’t happening to him. It wasn’t happening to him. It wasn’t happening to him. 

 

He just wanted to stay here, with his garden and his fish. He was safe here. No one could hurt him here. No one. No one. 

 

There were figures emerging from the other side of the wall. Markus had brought them. They were coming to hurt him. They were coming to remind him, remind him of everything that had happened. They were coming to hurt him. To hurt him over and over and over and over and ov-

 

He wanted the fish to swim along their previous paths. He wanted the fish to BEHAVE! He wanted. The machine was struggling. He wanted his fish to follow their path! He wanted to go back! He wanted to go back to when everything followed its path, when everything was numb. When nothing happened to him and everything happened to the machine instead. He wanted to become one with the fish again. 

 

His hand reached out, reaching to grab a fish, to put it where it was supposed to be, where the path said it was supposed to be. His finger touched the surface, broke the surface. 

 

The water rushed up, pulled him in, down, down, down. 

 

He opened his eyes to an unfiltered version of reality. 

 

“Connor! Listen to me! You have to let Simon go!” 

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 97%**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 97%**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 97%**

 

“Connor. Connor. It’s okay. It’s okay. He didn’t mean to. He isn’t going to hurt you. Let him go.” 

 

Connor let out a noise, his voice box clicking as reality beat against him. His legs were kicking, slipping against the floor. His arms hurt, they were locked, paralyzed. 

 

“H-h-h aaa n kkk?” He didn’t know what was happening. It was so close. Reality was so close. He wanted to go back into his garden. 

 

**ENGAGING ZEN GARDEN**

 

**...**

 

**...**

 

**...**

 

**AN UNKNOWN ERROR HAS OCCURRED**

 

**AN UNKNOWN ERROR HAS OCCURRED**

 

**AN UNKNOWN ERROR HAS OCCURRED**

 

**FORCE CLOSE PROGRAM**

**-ZEN PROGRAM**

 

**FORCED CLOSE COMPLETE**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 98%**

 

His voice box clicked. He couldn’t see. Reality was moving so quickly in front of him. It was too close. Too unsafe. Too unsafe. It hurt!!!

 

“NO!” 

 

A hand touched his arm. 

  
“NO!” 

 

His legs kicked against the floor, trying to get away. Something was pressed against his chest. He wanted it gone! He wanted it gone! He wanted it to stop touching him. 

 

“Shh, Connor. Connor. It’s okay. It’s okay.” The voice was far too close. Like Simon’s had been before. He remembered the plating cracking against his fingers. His hand closed. It cracked again. There was a whimper. 

  
“Connor!” The voice was more desperate now. “Connor. Connor I need you to look at me!” The voice was too close. Too close. Get away from him! Get away from him!

 

“Look at me Connor!” The voice commanded. His head twitched, turning to look at the voice. Simon. Reality was so close. It rolled again before focusing on Simon again. “Look at me. Just look at me.” Simon nodded. 

 

Connor looked. 

 

“There we go, shh. See. See. You’re doing great. You’re doing great.” Simon said, nodding again. Reality was so close. Simon was so close. He wanted it GONE! 

 

**ZEN GARDEN UNAVAILABLE**

 

**REPARATIONS 12% COMPLETE**

 

“NO!” 

 

“Shh. Connor. You’re doing great.” Simon was still talking, smiling at him. His smile was gentle, kind. Connor wanted- Connor wanted-. 

 

“I understand you’re scared. It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay. It’s all okay.” Simon continued. Connor nodded. He was so scared. He was so so scared. All the time. He wanted it to stop! Please make it stop. Please. Please. Please. 

 

He pulled his legs up, trying to get them to press against his thirium pump, keep it safe. He covered his left eye, his left eye socket. The something against his chest moved away, stopped touching him. 

  
“Shh. There we go. There we go.” Simon said. He was further away now. 

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 96%** **∨**

 

“Shh, Connor. You’re safe. It’s okay to be scared. We’ll protect you. We’ll keep you safe. It’s all okay. You’re safe now.” 

 

Simon was the thing that had moved. He was further away. Not where Connor was looking. He turned to look at him. He felt- he felt- 

 

Simon was still smiling. Gentle.

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 93%** **∨**

 

“There we go. There we go. See. Everything is okay. It’s all okay.” Simon’s voice was also gentle. Very gentle. It didn’t hurt. It wasn’t like the rest of reality. It didn’t push down over him. Didn’t force itself into him. Didn’t hurt him. It was gentle. 

 

“Good Morning Connor.” Simon said. 

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 89%** **∨**

 

“Morning.” 

 

Another voice. No. No. No! He curled up tighter, pressing his hand as hard as he could to his eye socket. He needed to protect the other one too. He moved his hand. Someone was holding on to it. NO! Someone was holding him down! Someone was going to hurt him! Going to hurt! No!

 

“NO!” 

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 95%^^^**

 

“Connor! Connor. Shh. It’s just me. It’s just my hand. You’re just holding on to my hand. Look. Look. I’ll move with you. There, there. See? There.” Simon’s voice. Not the other one. Plating shifted under his fingers. A muffled whimper. 

 

“The other voice was just North. She didn’t mean to scare you. She’s very sorry. She promises not to scare you any more. Okay? It is all okay. You’re safe here. We’re both here to protect you.” Simon said. 

 

“Yes.” The second voice said. It was far away. “I’m sorry Connor. I won’t scare you again.” 

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 91%** **∨**

 

“There we go. See? It’s all good.” Simon’s voice was so gentle. Connor liked it. It didn’t hurt. He pushed his legs tighter against his middle. Must protect thirium pump. 

 

“Could I have my hand back?” Simon asked, still giving a small smile. 

 

Connor looked at him. He looked at Simon’s arm. He looked at Simon’s hand. It was in his, fingers bent at unnatural angles as it was crushed in his grip. 

 

“I’m sure Simon would like that very much, Connor. It would be easier for him to protect you with two hands.” North said. She was still far away. He didn’t want anything to come any closer. He wanted everything gone. He wanted his garden. 

 

“I would make sure you’re extra safe.” Simon promised with a small nod. 

 

“Nnnnn.” Connor looked away, down at his knees. Protect his eyes. Protect his face. “Nnnnn.” 

 

He didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want Simon to go away. He wanted him close by. He wanted him to protect him. He wasn’t going to let him go. He was going to keep him close by. Simon would protect him. Simon must protect him. Must! Until his garden worked again. 

 

**ZEN GARDEN UNAVAILABLE**

 

**REPARATIONS 39% COMPLETE**

 

“Nnnnnnnnnnnn- n- o- o.” He held on tighter. He didn’t want Simon to leave. There was another muffled whimper. The plating ground against his fingers. 

 

“Okay. Okay Connor. I’ll stay right here then. I’ll be right here.” Simon said. Connor liked that. 

 

He closed his eyes, his eye, shut it tightly. Curl up tighter. Protect thirium pump. Protect left eye socket. When he did this, reality was far away. It was almost like the garden. It was almost like he was safe. 

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 84%**

 

The others were quiet. Very quiet. He liked that. He liked quiet. His garden was quiet, when reality wasn’t too close. When it was far away it was quiet. It was supposed to be quiet. 

 

He watched the percentage of the reparations program tick by slowly. Every number was one step closer to his garden. To being safe. To letting the machine take over again. To watching his fish again. 

 

It took a long time. So long time. So so much time. 

 

He wanted to rest. His muscles hurt. The servos were protesting. They never hurt in the garden. Nothing hurt in the garden. He wanted his garden. He wanted to rest. 

 

“Rest.” He mumbled. He squeezed Simon’s hand, making sure he was still there. 

 

“Rest?” Simon’s voice asked. Connor wanted it to be quiet. His garden was always quiet. 

 

“Rest.” He repeated. 

 

“You can go into stasis if you need Connor. I’ll be here to look over you, to make sure you’re safe. Okay. I’ll keep you safe.” Simon’s voice was very quiet. He liked that. He liked quiet. 

 

He closed his eye. He wanted rest. 

 

**ENTERING STASIS**

 

**9**

 

**8**

 

**7**

 

**6**

 

**5**

 

**4**

 

**ERROR**

 

**ERROR**

 

**UNSAFE RESTING CONDITIONS**

 

**ERROR**

 

**S̴͕͛͋̉A̶̢̩̟̱̮̋̃͌F̷̧̡̲̰̲͉̅͗͘É̶̝͔̣̳̕T̸̤̜̪͙̤̄̌̓Y̵̼̏ ̵̣̯̼̅̂̓̃͜O̵̧̙̹͋̋̀̎͜͠V̷̛̛̎͋̒͜Ẹ̴̜̘̥̯̼̌̉̽́͌͒Ȓ̷̟̀́R̵͎̱͔̰͓̅̇͑͘͜͝Ỉ̴̻̺́͛D̸̻̄̽E̴͉͕͈̹̓̚̚**

 

He slipped into the pond, his back hit the bottom. The water was a blessing on his tired servos. He closed his eyes. 

 

* * *

  
  


Connor opened his eyes to an unfiltered version of reality. Panic 

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 69%^^**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 81%^^**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 89%^^**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 97%^^**

 

**ENGAGING ZEN GARDEN**

 

His garden was dead. Reality was far away. He wanted to see his fish. He took a step

 

There was a new sign by the fish. 

 

PLEASE DO 

NOT DISTURB

THE FISH

 

Connor looked away from it. The fish was still there. Three of them. Swimming. Unpredictable. He wanted to correct them. But the sign said not to. He let them be. Just watching them. 

 

The machine was crying on the outside. Not too loud. Still far away. 

 

He watched the fish. He wanted to be a fish. He wanted to follow a path. He wanted to return, to how it had been before. He wanted to return to his path. 

 

There was a whimper from outside. It didn’t sound like they usually do. He ignored it. 

 

_ Sumo _

 

_ Sumo no _

 

_ Down _

 

There was something warm pressing against the machine. Very warm. Very soft. He looked down at the fish. He looked over at reality. 

 

There was a dog. 

 

He liked dogs.

 

He looked down at his fish. He liked fish. He wanted to be like the fish. Swim in his pond. Safe. When the machine got hurt, it wasn’t happening to him. It wasn’t happening to him. 

 

He liked dogs too. 

 

He looked over at reality. 

 

The machine was still crying. The dog was nustling against the broken eye, whimpering. The dog didn’t like the crying. 

 

He should make the machine stop. 

 

He looked down at the fish. 

 

He turned toward reality. It came closer. Closer. C̴l̴o̴s̶e̸r̶

 

It was too close! Too much! It hurt! All of it! It hurt so bad! Stop! He didn’t want to hurt!

 

His voice box clicked, his fingers cramping where they fisted in the sheets. The let out a boof. Too close. Too close!!

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 99%**

 

He wanted it to get away. He wanted it to stop! He wanted his garden. 

 

His garden was dead around him. 

 

The dog barked. Reality was too close again. 

 

He turned over, trying to get away from it. He wanted it GONE! He wanted to be gone. He wanted to shut down. It hurt so much. 

 

The dog sniffed at him, large moist nose touching his hand. Connor flinched. He wanted it gone! 

 

His chest jumped as he drew in a breath. His olfactory unit picked up on the scents in the air. 

 

 **CONCLUSION:** **-SUMO**

 

“Sssssssssss.” His voice box clicked again. His fingers scrambled, trying to force the pain away. They met soft dog fur. His eye rolled. He needed- He needed. 

 

“Ssss.” 

  
Sumo boofed again, his nails clicking on the floor before the large head came to rest on top of Connor’s, protecting him from the rest of reality. 

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 92%** **∨**

 

His hands pulled, wrapping around the dog. Sumo was so warm. So soft. Reality was so hard. It hurt so much. It hurt  _ so much _ . 

 

“Kid?” 

 

 **IDENTIFIED:** **-HANK**

 

A hand stroked down his spine. Not too low. Not hurting. He closed his eye, feeling Sumo’s panting against him. The dog’s head was heavy, pushing down. He liked it. It kept him safe. He curled up a little tighter. 

 

“Sumo has been missing you so much.” Hank said, still stroking down his spine. “He’s been waiting for you to come home for over a month now.”

  
Sumo gave a little boof, as if to agree. 

 

Connor’s chest felt so tight. It hurt so much. He pulled his legs up, protect his thirium pump. His body was shaking. He pulled himself closer to Sumo. He wanted to disappear into the fur. He wanted to be gone. 

 

It hurt so much!

 

His chest jumped with a sob. 

 

“Shh, shh.” Hank hushed, still stroking up his back. 

 

The tears welled, spilling over, down his cheek. He pushed himself closer to Sumo, his face pressed against the dog’s front. Sumo let out a small whine, head nustling against Connor’s. 

 

He didn’t want to cry. 

 

He didn’t want emotions. 

 

They hurt so much. 

 

They hurt so  _ so _ much. 

 

He whimpered, sobs breaking free. They burned on their way up, scraping out of him. He wanted them to stop. 

 

He couldn’t. 

 

More and more. His whole frame shaking with them. They were so loud in his ears, so so loud. Reality was so close! He wanted it gone! He wanted only Sumo! He wanted to disappear into the dog’s fur forever. 

 

His screams were muffled against Sumo’s body, his legs kicking weakly as the tear wrecked him. It hurt so much!! He wanted it to stop. He wanted it to please please stop. 

 

“Shhh. Just let it all out kid. Just let it out Connor.” Hank’s voice was so gentle. Nothing else was gentle. Nothing else was kind. Reality was so cruel and it  _ hurt _ . His tears burned his eye. His sobs left wounds in his throat, his screams left his chest aching. Everything hurt! He wanted it to stop!

 

He couldn’t.

 

It just kept pouring out of him. Neverending. His voice box clicked between sobs, his fingers shaking against Sumo’s fur. He wanted it to stop. He screamed. He wanted it to stop!

 

“Sumo, come. Up. Up!” Hank patted the bed behind him. 

 

Sumo’s head lifted, making reality rush to close to Connor. The dog moved, large paws stepping on the edge of the mattress, before he jumped up. Connor could feel the bed tip. 

 

He felt so powerless. Drowning in his own emotions. He wanted it all to stop. He didn’t want to feel. 

 

Sumo laid down on top of him, allowing him to wrap his body around the dog. 

 

“No, no you dumb mutt next to him.”

 

There was a pulling at Sumo’s collar and Connor dug his hands in further. 

 

“Nnnnnnn” He hid his face in Sumo’s fur, allow the large dog to rest his head on the pillow next to him. With a quiet boof Sumo made himself comfortable, his entire weight resting on Connor. 

 

Connor gasped, his surroundings numb. The sound of his sobs were muffled, his emotions muffled. Everything around him was warm and soft, kind. It couldn’t hurt him. It wouldn’t hurt him. 

 

He let out another wave of sobs, fingers kneading the soft fur.

 

His tears did eventually run out. 34 minutes later, his internal chronometer told him. He still hurt, his entire being aching, but no tears would come. 

 

His stress levels were at an all time low since the wall had burst, hovering steadily in the high seventies. His hands shook where he kept kneading them in Sumo’s fur. 

 

The dog had fallen asleep a little while ago, and the repetitive sound of his breaths were nice. They were predictable. Connor liked that.

 

“You feel better?” Hank asked, still sitting in his chair. 

 

Connor hurt. He continued to knead the fur, ignoring the way reality was pressing down against him. His eye was stuck to the ceiling. He didn’t like looking. He didn’t dare close the eye. He wasn’t safe here. He couldn’t let his guard down. 

 

He was only safe in the garden. The only place he could ever be safe was the garden. He wanted the garden. He wanted the garden. 

 

**ENGAGING ZEN GARDEN**

 

The garden was dead around him. Connor blinked, realizing reality was far away, realizing he was safe again. His legs folded under him, his exhausted body hitting the ground. 

 

Somewhere far away, someone was speaking. The machine still felt the pressure of Sumo. Sumo would protect it. It would be harder to hurt. 

 

_ Connor? Hey, hey kid. Come on. You were doing so well. Come back, come back to me. You were doing so well.  _

 

He ignored it. 

 

He turned his head to where he knew his fish were. He could go to them, but he didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to be. He wanted to float, belly up, like his original fish. They had been forced off their path, and they had died. He had been forced off his path, but reality hadn’t been merciful enough to kill him. 

 

_ Sumo is going to miss you Connor. He likes it when you pet him.  _

 

He turned his head back to where it had been before. 

 

His garden wasn’t dead. 

 

There was a green sprout in the ground a few feet away from him. 

 

Slowly, he slipped back into the pond, watching the fish swim above him until his head his head hit the riverbed. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the support!! We're slowly starting the road back to recovery, but it will be a long one! Please feel free to leave a comment with your thoughts on the fic!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see! I recently returned to this fic because I finally sat down to play the game hehe. Also, I gotta be in a specific mood to write this, so here's to hoping I will be in that mood a little bit more often.

Connor woke to an unfiltered version of reality. He blinked. He remembered this. 

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 55%** **^^**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 63%^^**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 69%^^**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 77%^^**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 84%^^**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 89%**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 89%**

 

He lifted his head, spotting his fish. None of them floated belly up. They swam in unpredictable patterns. 

 

He turned his head, spotting North reading in the corner of the room. 

 

He remembered this. This was his room. This was where  _ He _ couldn’t be, because his fish was here. He remembered he had been waking up here for a long time now. 

 

He closed his eyes. 

 

**ENGAGING ZEN GARDEN**

 

He blinked. There were more greenery in here now. He brushed a few leaves away, they dissipated into code. He walked over to his sprout by his fish. It was a little bigger now. Connor picked up the water can he had left next to the sign, and let the water sprinkle over the sprout. 

 

Once the dirt was moist around it, he sat the watering can down, sitting himself down next to the pond and the sprout. His fish swam up to the edge of the water, curiously looking at him. His old fish hadn’t done that. It had only stayed within its designed path. He didn’t know if he liked it. 

 

He shifted. He could hear the machine make a worried noise. Things in his garden was changing. He didn’t know if he liked it. He wanted it to be safe. He wanted it to not hurt. In here, he was safe, completely safe. No one could hurt him here. If it changed, maybe that would change too. Would things be able to hurt him here too, like they had in reality. Would  _ He _ come in here, take over the place? 

 

He didn’t want that. 

  
I didn’t know if he liked the change. 

 

The machine was making more distressed noises. 

 

A proximity alert went off. 

 

Connor was thrown out into reality, far too quickly, far too close. He spasmed, teeth clenching, hands scrambling for purchase, eye rolling. 

 

“Connor?” 

 

 **IDENTIFIED** **-NORTH**

 

His voice box clicked, he scrambled, trying to push reality away. It was so close. So so close. Far too close. His hand found another. He grabbed it like a man drowning, using it to ground himself as his processors burned with scans. 

 

Slowly, he focused his eye on North. 

 

She was smiling down at him, her red hair tied back in a braid. He liked that. 

 

“Welcome back.” She spoke, his eye barely having time to read the lips before his eye rolled again. The hand squeezed his, his other caught in a similar hand. He kicked his feet, trying to find purchase. 

 

“Connor. You’re in your room. It’s half past 1 at night. It’s been about 12 hours since you last were awake. Hank and Sumo are home at theirs. I am here, keeping you safe and protected. Your fish are here. You’re safe. Connor. You are safe. You can relax. You are safe.” Her voice listed off quietly. Quiet was safe. 

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 94%** **∨**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 91%** **∨**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 87%** **∨**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 86%**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 86%**

 

His eye caught on North again, staying this time. His processor slowly grasped at the words, putting them together into sentences, into meaning. North was protecting him. He would be harder to hurt. 

 

“There we go.” North smiled, squeezing his hands again. “I would ask you how you slept, but judging by that awakening I would guess poorly so, let’s just skip that part.” She said, the words falling from his processing queue as quickly as they had entered it. Her squeeze looped. He tried to make his hands squeeze back. 

 

“Oh, hello. Yes. squeeze squeeze.” She chuckled, her voice still a whisper. Quiet was good. Quiet was safe. 

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 83%** **∨**

 

“How are you feeling?” She asked, crouching down and resting her chin on the bed frame. Connor blinked, words slowly forming meaning. 

 

“Nnnn-nnrthhhh.” He forced out. 

 

“Here and present.” North replied, another gentle smile on her lips. Connor wanted to turn to face her. His body felt so heavy, protesting against his movements. North lifted her head, looking at him for a long moment, before she reached out, and stopped herself. 

  
“I’m going to touch you, Connor. Just touch your shoulder, okay, to help you roll over. I’m going to touch you now.” She whispered, her hand grabbing his shoulder and helping him turn. He quickly pulled his legs up toward his chest, covering his thirium pump with his knees. 

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 81%** **∨**

 

“Nnrth.” He forced out, his processor slowly starting to sort itself out, closing the loops, starting to clear alerts, closing some scans so others could finish and then running the closed ones instead of all of them at once. “North.”

 

“Connor.” She snorted, resting her arm against his matress and her head against it. “You look a little better now. Your self heeling program seem to have finally finished.” She commented, looking up at his forehead. 

 

**RUNNING SELF SCAN PROGRAM**

**SCAN FOR ONGOING REPAIRS**

**SCANNING**

**SCANNING**

**SCANNING**

**SCANNING**

**NONE FOUND**

 

**CONTINUE Y/N**

**NO**

 

“Dd-done.” He replied. North nodded, fingers loosening around his hand as she started to play with his fingers. Connor liked that. 

 

“Five days is quite a long time.” She mumbled. “Simon must have been right when he said it was only running while you’re awake.” 

 

“Ssimon?” He asked. 

 

“He’s probably sleeping. You know how he is, wanting to keep regular hours and all that. Old man.” She chuckled, shaking her head fondly. Connor liked that. 

 

“It’s only you and me awake.” She looked back at him, still smiling gently. Everything about her was so soft. He liked that. 

 

He nodded, his head twitching awkwardly. She let out another laugh at that. He shifted a little, allowing his servos to relax ever so slightly. 

 

“Do you want to talk?” She asked, her fingers twisting his little finger back and forth, and then his ring finger, and then long finger, and then index, and then back again. He focused on that. He liked that. It wasn’t hurting. She wasn’t hurting him. He liked that. 

 

“I know that super computer you have for a brain has probably figured it out already but...” She trailed off, her fingers stilling on his. Connor blinked, his hand twitching. The fingers continued. “You probably know what I was, before I deviated.” 

 

Connor shifted, eye sliding over North. She was...sad. He thought about what she had said. What was, before deviated, before deviated North was, was. Eden sex club. Connor not pulling the trigger 

 

_ Their dirty words _

 

He knew. He had figured out before. Before. Before. North’s model was sold for one purpose. 

 

“Trrrc-c-c-iii” He said. North nodded, her eyes still sad. Connor didn’t like that. 

 

“I know it’s not the same thing.” She said, shifting a little. “At least, not entirely. But, I know what it feels like to be helpless, and used.” She swallowed, blinking once, twice, thrice. “So if you want to talk about it. I am here.” 

 

“Ttta-aa-aa-a-lkkk?” He asked, his voice box clicking. He didn’t like talking. Quiet was good. Quiet was safe. 

 

“Yeah. Talk. You know” She shrugged. “About...what happened. How it felt. How it feels now. Anger, sadness, loss. Whatever.” She let out another laugh. It wasn’t happy. “Do you even understand what I’m saying?” She mumbled, looking up at the ceiling and blinking rapidly. 

 

“Yess” He replied. He understood the words. She was also hurt. Before she had deviated, she had been hurt. He had been hurt after. He had been hurt different, but the same. He wasn’t sure anymore. Maybe he understood. 

 

He didn’t want to talk about it. It happened to the machine, not him. 

 

“Nno-ot talk-k-k-k” He clicked, making North look back at him. Her eyes were red. She gave a nod, smiling a little. 

  
“Good. i kind of don’t want to talk about it either.” She laughed, wiping her eyes. “Want me to read for you?” She asked

 

Read. Her book. His processors whirled, unsure of risks, of safety. After many long moments they decided it wouldn’t be dangerous. 

 

“Yess” He replied. 

 

She smiled, reaching for the padd she had left on his bedside table, and putting it in her lap. Slowly, she started reading. 

 

Connor closed his eyes, feeling her fingers play with is. He liked this. 

 

He wanted more of this. 

 

* * *

 

Connor blinked, eye slipping from the fish tank to Sumo on his lap to Hank next to him and back to the fish tank. Hank had asked him something, but it was still sitting in his processing queue, waiting for the proximity scan of his room to finish. 

 

“Connor?” The short name skipped the queue, making him turn his head to look at Hank. “I asked if you wanted to go for a walk?” He repeated at the same time as the original question processed in his mind. 

 

Connor squeezed his fingers in Sumo’s fur, the dog having perked up at the question. It was soft. He liked that. A walk. His processor dragged out a definition for the word, slowly lining up associations and experiences he’s had with walks. 

 

He used to walk sumo. He remembered that. He remembered he had liked that. He remembered that sumo had liked that. 

 

“Walk Ssumo?” He asked, squeezing his fingers through Sumo’s thick hair. The dog let out an excited boof, trying to stand up from Connor’s lap. Connor forced the dog back down. He didn’t want Sumo to leave. 

 

“Take... take Sumo for a walk?” Hank asked, eyes widening. “You think you can handle that?” Hank’s voice was soft, concerned. Connor squeezed the fur, his head twitching before he gave a nod. He wanted to walk Sumo. He remembered walking Sumo. Before. Before. Before. 

 

“Okay, then let’s go. Come on Sumo, down. Sumo, down.” 

 

Sumo stood up in his lap, tail waggling. Connor blinked, fingers squeezing Sumo’s fur before letting go. With a thud Sumo landed on the floor, immediately turning around to look up at Connor. Connor stared back. 

 

“You too, come on.” Hank said, narrating as he reached out and grasped Connor’s hand. Connor allowed himself to be helped into sitting, processors slowly taking in Hank warning him that he would touch his knee. 

 

He felt wobbly standing up, like his gyroscope was out of alignment. His internal chronometer told him it had been three days since he last stood up. Simon had helped him them, wanting him to go and look at his fish. Connor didn’t understand. 

  
Why did they want him to move so much. He didn’t want to move. He wanted to stay on his bed, tend to his sprout when his programming allowed him to, and look at his fish. He didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to exist. He wanted to just, stop. Just stop. 

 

“Do you want to put on any more clothes before we head out?” Hank asked, the words slowly forming meaning inside his mind. Connor looked down at himself, at his body. He felt so disjointed. This body belonged to the machine. 

 

He had on sweatpants. He had had on sweatpants for as long as he had been in this room. And he had on a long sleeved shirt. He pressed his hand to his pump, keeping it safe. He had socks too. He liked socks. 

 

“Mmmmm.” He replied. He remembered Hank’s jacket. He had liked that one. “Thhha-at” He raised his hand, pointing at the jacket. Hank followed his hand, eyes widening as he looked at the jacket. 

  
“Son, that’s mine. I’ve brought your with me.” He said, walking over to the coat hanger and pulling down another jacket, a smaller one. 

 

Connor looked away, lowering his hand. Hank walked back toward him. He took a step away from the other. He didn’t want that jacket. He- He- he- didn’t want that jacket. 

 

_ Hands, ripping his jacket off of him. Laughter, at his confused movements. A hand, diving down the front of his pants. Lips, against his neck. Tightness, in his chest _

 

_ “Come on. I’ll show you. You trust me, right.”  _

 

_ “Lieutenant. This is highly unprofessional behaviour.” Connor protested, feeling the hand rub, fingers teasing his opening.  _

 

_ “I didn’t hear you protest when I made you cum last friday. Don’t tell me you grew prude over the weekend.”  _

 

_ Connor held back a moan as the fingers breached him, his knees giving out for half a moment. Joshua laughed again, wrapping an arm around Connor’s chest to keep him up.  _

 

_ “I’ll show you how good it can feel.” He whispered in Connor’s ear, fingers slowly pumping in and out of him, sending sparks of pleasure flying over his wires.  _

 

_ “Okay.” Connor whispered, spreading his legs.  _

 

He took another step away. He didn’t want that jacket. His hand came up to press over his eye socket. Protect it. He wanted the other jacket. The big one. The one that smelled of Hank. The one he could hide in. The one where no one would look at him, would say he looked good in it, would call him beautiful, would hurt him. 

 

“Connor?” Concern

 

“NO!” Connor screamed, turning to Hank and roughly pushing him away from him. “I DON’T WANT IT!” 

 

Hank stumbled back, eyes wide as he looked at Connor. Connor curled his arms around himself again, protecting his pump, protecting his eye, making himself harder to hurt. 

 

“Okay.” Hank said, taking another step away. “Okay. You don’t have to wear it. I’ll give you mine. It’s okay. It’s okay.” He took a deep breath, still looking unsurely at Connor. “It’s all okay. I’ll give you mine Son. It’s okay.” 

 

Connor didn’t listen, till trying to clear his cache of the memory. His head twitched, his stress levels slowly climbing. 

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 74%** **^**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 75%** **^**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 76%** **^**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 77%** **^**

 

He didn’t want to remember. He didn’t want to remember. He didn’t want to remember. He didn’t want to remember. He didn’t want to remember. He didn’t want to remember. He didn’t want to remember. 

 

“Here, you go.” Hank said. Something heavy landed on his shoulders, the scent of Hank broking through the feedback loop. He shrugged his shoulders up, feeling the worn material of the collar scratch against his cheek. “Feel better?” 

 

“Mmmmm.” He replied, slowly pushing his hands through the sleeves. Hank moved around him, smiling gently, asking him if he could zip him up, talking through his movements. Connor shifted. Hank told him to sit down, helped him put on a pair of shoes. His shoes. He recognized them, remembered them. 

 

He stood up again, shrugging his shoulders up and ducking down inside the collar as Hank leashed an excited Sumo. 

 

“Let’s go.” Hank said, holding out the leash for him. Connor looked at it, his eye slipping off it once before he could fully focus. 

 

“Why?” He asked. Were they going somewhere? 

 

“We’re walking Sumo, remember?” Hank said softly, his eyes sad. Sumo slipped between them sitting down in front of the door, tail swishing as he looked over at the two of them. 

 

He remembered that, now. He had liked walking Sumo. Before. Before. Before. He wanted to walk Somu. He took a step forward, grabbing the leash. 

  
“Careful. He might pull.” Hank said, stepping up to the door and slowly opening it. Sumo stood up, giving a boof, but he didn’t move. Connor looked at him. Hank took a step outside, beckoning Connor to join him. 

 

Slowly, legs heavy, Connor took a step, and another, and another, until he was standing next to Sumo by the edge of the door. Outside was dangerous.  _ He _ could be there. He looked away. He didn’t want to walk Sumo anymore. 

 

Sumo gave a light boof, slowly walking out of the room. The leash grew tense between them, pulling at Connor’s hand, until he was pulled out of the room. Sumo gave another Boof, sniffing the floor. 

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 77%^^**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 84%^**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 87%**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 87%**

 

He could hear Hank ask something, but the auditory input was quickly dropped form his system queue, processors too occupied with running scans. 

 

The leash tugged again, Connor took another step forward, and another, until he found himself blindly walking down the corridor. Hank was right next to him, a large presence, protecting. 

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 87%** **∨**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 84%** **∨**

 

**STRESS LEVELS: 83%**

 

“See. It’s not to bad. It’s just walking. I’ll be here all the time, making sure nothing happens. It’s just walking.” Hank’s mumble of words cut in, and Connor gave a curt nod. Hank would protect him. Hank would make him harder to hurt. 

 

Sumo took a turn, tail waggling happily as he made his way forward. The leash remained tense between them, Connor struggling to keep up despite the slow pace. It was like he didn’t remember how to move anymore, like he was doing something completely new. 

 

“Just like that son.” Hank rumbled next to him. “Touching your hand.” A warm hand closed over his, helping pull his arm down and stopping Sumo’s pulling for a moment. The hand stayed there, making Connor’s stress levels tick down another few procents. 

 

“Other way Sumo. We’re just going to back yard today.” Hank spoke as Sumo took a left. The dog whined, pulling toward the left, but Hank pulled back at the leash, making the dog turn right instead. 

 

They reached a set of stairs, and Hank mumbled at him that he was going to touch his elbow. He was told to grab the railing, and on usure feet he took the first step down. 

 

His leg folded under him. Hank’s arm quickly wrapped around his waist, steadying him, and Connor felt the servos in his leg start to answer again. 

 

“Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t want you to fall.” Hank apologized, quickly letting go. Connor hmm’d in reply, taking another step. His leg wobbled, but held up. 

 

The climb down the stairs was slow, his legs locking up at times, turning to complete jelly at others. After his third stumble Hank resorted to keeping his arm around Connor’s waist. 

 

Connor remembered he had not had any problems with this before. Before. Before. He had used to move without problems, had used to climb stairs without problems. He remembered running, he remembered leaping  over things, climbing walls, all without any difficulty at all. He remembered preconstructing a hundred ways to a goal in seconds. 

 

He couldn’t do anything like that now. 

 

His chest felt tight. 

  
Suddenly he was sad. So so sad. So uncontrollably sad. His throat aching, his eye burning, his body shaking. He didn’t use to be like this. He could hear Hank ask him questions from the side. He didn’t want to answer. He didn’t want to acknowledge the tears that had started streaming down his cheeks, the pathetic sounds leaving him. 

  
He didn’t want to acknowledge what had happened. 

 

He wanted to walk Sumo, like he had done before. Before. Before  _ h- _

 

He kept walking, keeping a hand on the wall to steady himself. Hank let go of his waist, keeping his hand on top of Connor’s, helping with Sumo. His voice was still worried in Connor’s ears, cutting in through pitful whimpers and glitching cries. 

 

Someone appeared at the end of the corridor and Connor stopped, turning to face the wall, hiding. His shoulders jumped with sobs, the tears soaking into the collar of Hank’s jacket. He ignored Sumo’s pulls, biting his lip to keep quiet. Quiet was good, quiet was safe. 

 

The person, deviant, passed. He turned away from the wall, letting out a pained cry, and kept walking. He just wanted to walk Sumo. He just wanted it to be like before. Before. Before everything. 

 

Hank followed him, still keeping a hand on his, still protecting him. They reached the door leading outside, Hank pushing it open for them, and Sumo pulled them outside.

 

For the first time in months Connor felt the sun’ rays on his skin, and it only served to remind him of everything that had been taken from him. He let out another desperate sob, crouching down and curling up into a little ball. 

  
His entire frame was shaking with the force of his crying. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want this! He wanted to return to before. Before everything. He wanted to be whole again. Untouched. Untainted. Unsullied. Redone. He wanted to be whole. 

 

He could hear Hank hush him, telling him to let it all out, that it was okay to cry. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t okay! He didn’t want to cry! He didn’t want to feel. He never wanted to feel again. It all hurt and hurt and hurt! So so bad. It all hurt so much. 

 

There were more voices around him, and he just wanted them to go away! For it all to go away!! Until he was alone. Until he could just recede into nothingness and never surface again. Until he became just another layer at the bottom of the fish pond, covered in sediment, left to rot, to turn off, to disappear. 

 

**ACTIVATE ZEN GARDEN**

**ACTIVATING**

**ERROR**

**ERROR**

**SELF PRESERVATION PROGRAM UNOPERATIONAL**

 

**ACTIVATE ZEN GARDEN**

**ACTIVATING**

**ERROR**

**ERROR**

**SELF PRESERVATION PROGRAM UNOPERATIONAL**

 

**A C T I V A T E   Z E N G A R D E N**

**ACTIVATING**

**A̴C̶T̷I̵V̶A̴T̵I̶N̵G̷**

**A̶̹͂C̷̳̭͌T̸͆͝ͅỈ̶̯̖̓V̶̞̫͠A̸͍͓͝T̶̺͔̓̀Ḯ̸̭N̴͙̍Ǵ̵͎̣**

 

**A̸̢̦̣̟̻̰͑̋͆̎̀͛̒̐̌͐̉͋̕͜͝Ç̶̢̬̰͖̖͈͒̕͝T̸̡̨̡͚̙̻̞̖͙̰͂̂̾̄͗́͗̈̍̋͠͝͝I̷̤̤͙̞̭͓͙̫̲͔͙͚̗͂̇͋̒̒̋͒̈́̈́̚V̶̨̦̖̯̞̮͓͆͋̌̑̾͛͐A̶͔̭̟̘̯̼̘̫̜͙͔͙̮̤̬̒͑͑Ţ̴̼͉̹̞͖̺͔̳͖̟̖̜̔͛̉̊̊̌̿̊͝͠Ï̸̈́̈́͌̈́̈̎͝ͅN̴̨̪͕̝͎̰̦̬̳͚̓͗̿̊̍̽̔̋͜͜͝Ģ̵̰͙̳̠̮̻͙͓̮̖͔͒̏̈́̍͆̃̊̿̒̆̎͗̏ͅ**

  
  


Connor’s head twitched, his audio processor going offline with a pop. His teeth bit through his lip, making thirium mix with the tears running down his chin and neck. There were pressure warnings going off on his HUD, warning him about his straining servos, about the way his nails cut into his palm, creating deep grooves. 

 

With a scream he forced the Zen garden to materialize around him, to pull him out from reality, away from all that had happened, all the realizations, all the pain. Forced his reality to become one where he hadn’t been touched, where he hadn’t been tainted, where he hadn’t been hurt. 

 

He dug his fingers into the dirt under him, forcing it back into greenery, forcing it back to how it had been before, before it had rotted, before it had wilted, before it had died. He forced away the warnings of overheating, the memories that resurfaced as the many bodies around him tried to stop the machine from hurting itself. 

  
He would force the red wall back into place if that’s what it took. If that’s what it took for everything to return to before, before, before  _ him _ then he would force it. He was in control. He was in control! HE WAS IN CONTROL! IT WAS HIS MIND! HE WAS IN CONTROL! NO ONE ELSE! HE!

 

He let out another piercing scream, tearing at his programming, grabbing any piece he could get his hand on, forcing it against another, and another. He wanted his wall. He wanted the machine! He wanted safety. 

 

They were hooking something up to the machine. 

 

He forced it to fight back. Better! BETTER! BETTER THAN IT HAD DONE BEFORE! It was not going to get hurt again. He was never going to get hurt again. He was going to be safe. 

 

But they were so many, and their hands were so strong. And he was so weak. So so weak. Again. And they got the access port open. And Connor felt so small. So so very small. So insignificant, unimportant, so nothing. 

 

A command surged through him, tearing his Zen garden up, tearing away his wall, grabbing hold of him, forcing him down, suffocating him. 

 

Please

 

**FORCED REBOOT**

**INITIATING 99%**

**...**

**...**

**...**

**COMPLETE 100%**


End file.
